Page 12 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)

MIA

I clicked my pen against the table as I stared at the spreadsheet, adding notes in the margins of the printout.

Jack sat across from me, his dark head bent over his phone, thumbs moving rapidly across the screen.

We’d been working for over an hour now, settling into a comfortable rhythm that felt almost normal.

Like he hadn’t caught me and Emily in the middle of a heated argument at the gym earlier today.

Thank god he seemed to be acting normally. I’d been bracing myself all afternoon for some awkward comment or question about what he might have overheard. The last thing I needed was my boss knowing about my family drama or my pathetic body image issues.

Though speaking of bodies... the memory of Jack in a fitted t-shirt, muscles straining as he lifted weights, flashed through my mind. I’d nearly tripped over my own feet when I’d spotted him across the gym. The man was unfairly gorgeous in a business suit, but in workout clothes? Absolutely lethal.

I reached for my water glass and took a long sip, trying to cool the heat that was definitely not work-related.

“I’m ordering dinner for us, from Alfredo’s.” Jack glanced up from his phone. “Their pepperoni pizza is great, unless you’d prefer something else?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” I waved dismissively, turning back to my notes. “I’m not hungry.”

Jack made a sound that could only be described as huffy, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. “I know you skipped lunch, because I saw you at the gym.”

My head snapped up, cheeks warming. So he was going to mention it after all.

“Everything they do is great,” he continued, his hazel eyes fixed on mine with a stubborn intensity. “So what’s it going to be?”

I opened my mouth to protest that I really wasn’t hungry and could easily wait until I got home, but my treacherous stomach chose that exact moment to let out a growl so loud it might as well have been shouting “FEED ME” across the conference table. Fuck.

My entire face burned with embarrassment as Jack’s mouth quirked up at one corner in that almost-smile I was starting to recognize.

“Pepperoni pizza sounds great,” I mumbled, picking up my pen again and pretending to be absolutely fascinated by the data I’d been reviewing for the past twenty minutes.

“Good choice.” Jack turned his attention back to his phone. I heard the soft tapping as he placed the order, then the quiet click as he set his phone down.

We worked in companionable silence, the rhythm of key clicks and pen scratches filling the room until Jack’s phone pinged with a notification.

“Pizza’s here. I’ll go down and get it.”

When Jack returned with the pizza box, the heavenly aroma of melted cheese and spicy pepperoni filled the room. He set two generous slices on a paper plate and slid it across the table to me with a look that said “don’t even think about arguing.”

I surrendered with a small smile. “Thank you.”

The first bite was heaven—cheese gooey, sauce tangy, pepperoni with just the right amount of spice.

I was halfway through the first slice when, out of nowhere, Jack said, “I think we need to face facts,”

“Yeah? What facts?”

Jack set down his pizza and wiped his mouth with a napkin, his expression shifting to something more serious.

Oh shit, what was this about? “Jack?”

He studied me intently. “Porter is not up to this task.” For extra emphasis, he gestured to the array of folders and spreadsheets splayed across the huge table.

“He’s been with the company a long time,” I offered cautiously, not sure where this was heading.

“That’s part of the problem.” Jack’s fingers drummed once on the table before going still. “He’s comfortable. Set in his ways. And the Eastern division is suffering for it.”

I took a sip of water, buying myself time. Badmouthing another manager to the boss wasn’t exactly my style, even if Porter’s resistance to change was legendary around the office.

“What are you saying, exactly?” I finally asked.

“That we create a position for you where you’re overseeing both teams, with a manager from each reporting to you.”

The pizza suddenly felt like a lump in my throat. I set down my slice, mind racing. “That’s... that’s a huge change.”

“It’s necessary.” His voice was firm, his eyes intent on mine.

“Do you have any idea what kind of chaos that would cause?” I shook my head, already picturing the fallout. “Because he’s been here for yonks, Porter has allies. And Rebecca would have a field day finding ways to undermine me.”

“This isn’t about office politics, Mia. It’s about saving this company. The sales division could be doing so much better if Porter wasn’t running it. There are jobs on the line here. Real people with mortgages and families.”

The weight of his words settled on my shoulders. “I know that.”

“We have a real chance to turn things around,” he continued, his voice softening slightly. “Your system works. Your leadership works. You’ve proven that with your own team.”

“But overseeing both divisions?” My voice sounded small, tinny, to my own ears. “That’s a lot more responsibility. A lot more visibility.”

“You’re more than up to the task.” He said it with such conviction that for a moment, I almost believed him. “I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.”

Part of me was flattered by his confidence in me, while another part felt the familiar tug of anxiety. What if I failed? What if I couldn’t handle it? What if everything went sideways?

Maybe Jack could hear my thoughts, because he said, “Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

I nodded slowly, feeling both overwhelmed and oddly energized by the possibility. “Sure. Okay. I’ll think about it.”

His small nod of approval shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did, but I couldn’t deny the little flutter of satisfaction in my chest as we returned to our pizza and spreadsheets.