Page 23 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)

MIA

I stared at Jack, my heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. Just a moment before, I was teasing him, enjoying the look of shock on his face when he thought I’d misheard him. But now… Run both teams? The words hung in the air between us, impossible and tantalizing all at once.

“You seriously want me to manage Porter’s division too?” My voice was high, betraying my nerves.

Jack nodded, his expression dead serious as he watched me process the offer. “We’ve discussed it before. I don’t know why you’re surprised. You’re the most qualified person for the job. Your methods work. Your leadership style gets results. It’s a no brainer, honestly.”

I reached for my wine glass, noticing the slight tremble in my fingers.

Was this anxiety? Excitement? Fear? Maybe all three swirling together in a cocktail of emotion that almost overwhelmed me.

The thought of overseeing both divisions was thrilling, but the practical implications made my stomach twist into knots.

Jack’s gaze locked on mine. “Talk to me, Mia. What are you thinking right now?”

I took a sip of wine, letting the rich flavor coat my tongue while I gathered my thoughts. “I’m thinking that Neil has been with the company longer than both of us combined. And he’s not going to like answering to me.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed slightly, the way they always did when he was considering a challenge. Before he could respond, Ally approached with a tray loaded with food.

“One antipasto platter,” she announced cheerfully, setting down a wooden board overflowing with cured meats, cheeses, and olives. “And cheesy garlic bread, and here are your arancini balls. Can I get you anything else?”

“Not for now, thanks,” Jack replied.

She arranged the dishes on our table, and once she’d gone, I stared at the generous spread.

“You ordered enough for a small army.”

“I ordered enough for you to have plenty of options,” he countered, already selecting a piece of prosciutto, a wedge of cheese, some crackers and a few olives, and placing them on my plate.

“But back to Porter. You’re right. He won’t like answering to you.

We can soften him up a little by implying that it is a joint leadership position, but he needs to confirm his understanding that you have final say on all matters.

That way, he doesn’t lose face. He still won’t like it, of course, but if he wants to keep his job, he’ll have to get over it. ”

“That’s harsh.” The steel in my voice surprised me.

Jack shrugged. “It is. But that’s the reality of trying to save a company from ruin. Hard decisions have to be made.”

I let his words sink in, turning them over in my mind.

My instinct was to defend Porter, to find some gentler solution, but I knew Jack was right.

This wasn’t about feelings or office politics.

It was about survival. Jobs were on the line.

Mortgages. Health insurance. Family stability.

The company was bleeding money, and Porter’s resistance to change was part of the problem.

Sometimes kindness in business meant making hard calls for the greater good, even when they felt cruel in the moment.

“Okay. That’s fair. And I’m sorry I questioned you. I know you’re doing your best in a really shitty situation.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

I picked up the prosciutto and took a bite. The saltiness burst across my tongue, the delicate meat melting against my palate. I had to bite back an actual moan of pleasure at the taste, but something must have shown on my face because Jack’s eyes darkened as he watched me.

Without a word, he added more food to my plate.

“Okay, so what other concerns do you have?”

I swallowed the last of the prosciutto, trying to organize my thoughts into something coherent.

“Rebecca’s behavior toward me is already hostile.

If I get this promotion, it’s going to escalate, which will impede my ability to run the teams effectively.

She’ll find ways to undermine me, create paperwork nightmares, spread gossip. ..”

“I won’t let that happen.” The certainty in Jack’s voice was like granite, unmovable and solid.

“You can’t exactly control her,” I objected, reaching for an olive to give my nervous hands something to do. “She can’t be fired, which she well knows. It gives her a lot of power.”

Jack leaned forward, his hazel eyes holding mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. “Do you trust me, Mia?”

“Yes,” I surprised myself with how quickly and completely I meant it. “I do.”

Something flared in his eyes, quickly smothered. “Then believe me when I tell you that Rebecca will not be a problem for you.”

I huffed out a breath, studying his face. The absolute confidence I saw there was impossible to doubt. “I believe you.”

Jack nodded once, seemingly satisfied, then added an arancini ball to my plate. “Great. What else?”

“Nothing else. But I do have an idea I think you’ll like.”

“Throw it at me.”

I was really starting to adore how seriously he took me.

“We should mix the teams up,” I said, the idea taking clearer shape as I voiced it.

“Half the Western people move to Eastern, and vice versa. That way, my people, who are already experienced with my methods, can help coach and reassure the Eastern people through the process.” I paused, adding the most crucial detail.

“Oh, and Tiffany needs to move away from Neil.”

I watched Jack’s face as he considered my proposal, the way his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration, the subtle shift in his expression as understanding dawned. A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features from merely handsome to absolutely fucking devastating.

“That,” he said, his voice low and rich with approval, “is absolutely brilliant.”

Pride bloomed in my chest at his immediate recognition of what I was suggesting. No questions, no mansplaining my own idea back to me, just pure appreciation for the strategy.

The warm glow of his approval settled around me like a favorite blanket. For a moment, I forgot about the family barbecue, my mother’s cutting remarks, the stress of our fake relationship. I was just a woman having dinner with a man who respected my mind and valued my ideas.

“Oh, I do have one more suggestion.”

Jack picked up the tongs and selected the biggest piece of garlic bread from the basket, dropping it in front of me. “What is it?”

“Pleeeease can we digitize everything?”

His deep, rumbly laugh made me shiver. “Now, that’s the best idea you’ve had yet.”