Page 47 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)

JACK

F our days back from Paris, and I still couldn’t look at Mia without remembering the way she’d felt pressed against that hotel window, the sounds she’d made when I’d buried myself inside her while the Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance. Professional boundaries had become a fucking joke.

“Customer retention is up, acquisition costs are down, and we’ve successfully implemented the new archetype system across all client categories.” She delivered her report to the team in a clear, confident voice.

I had to force myself to focus on her words instead of the way her gray blazer hugged her curves.

Porter shifted in his seat, clearly preparing to make some comment about territory advantages or resource allocation, but before he could speak, Mia reached up and gathered her hair in hands, pulling it over her shoulder.

The simple gesture exposed the elegant line of her neck, and I was instantly transported back to that hotel room, my mouth on that exact spot while she gasped my name.

Mia’s gaze flicked to mine and the moment our eyes met, a flush crept up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. She clearly remembered the same moment I was thinking about. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for her water glass.

“Any questions about the Western numbers?” she asked, her voice slightly breathless.

Rebecca, who’d been taking notes with unusual intensity, looked up sharply. Her eyes darted between Mia and me with the predatory focus of a shark scenting blood.

“Actually, I do have a question,” Tiffany interjected.

Before Tiffany could ask her question, my phone buzzed against the table. It was a text from Nan.

We’d talked Monday night. I’d told her I was engaged and sent through the photo from the Eiffel Tower, and her joy had been infectious.

“Jack, she’s absolutely beautiful,” she’d gushed, her voice bright. “And that ring! Oh, sweetheart, you did so well. She looks at you like you hung the moon. When can I meet her?”

“She’ll be with me at Thanksgiving.”

I’d felt a stab of guilt at her genuine delight, but it had been quickly overshadowed by the knowledge that her delight was exactly the point of this whole charade. Easing her mind about me, so she could focus on getting better, was the name of the game.

But then she’d delivered the news that had made my blood run cold.

“Your mother’s going to lose her mind when she sees that photo.

And of course, you know she’s going to start asking about Mia’s family background.

If your girl has any skeletons in her closet, your mother will drag them out and dance with them.

I’ll do what I can to hold her back. Let’s just hope it’s enough. ”

Spoke to your mother. Everything is sorted for Thanksgiving. But she’s pissed you haven’t called her, sweetheart. It might be best to get that over and done with, before it becomes a bigger issue than it needs to be. You know how she is.

I did know how she was and now I was second guessing my impulsive decision to ask Mia for a fake engagement. Exposing her to my family poison was far from fair. Maybe I should…

“Everything alright?” Mia’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. The meeting had apparently ended while I was staring at my phone, and the room was emptying out. Only Mia, Emily, and Rebecca remained.

“Fine,” I said, pocketing the phone. “Just family… stuff.”

Rebecca’s eyes sharpened at the word ‘family,’ but before she could pry, Emily’s phone buzzed loudly on the table. She glanced at it, then winced.

“Speak of the devil,” Emily muttered, holding up her phone. “My mom wants me to ‘pin you down’ about the dress fitting next Saturday. Apparently you haven’t responded to the group chat.”

Mia’s face went pale. “There was a group chat?”

“Yes, Mia. The group chat you muted after the thirty third message about centerpiece colors.”

“Oh. That group chat.”

“Mm hmm. Anyway, dress fitting at eleven AM next Saturday, to check the initial measurements.”

I watched Mia’s shoulders tense. “Let her know I’ll be there. I should go.” She gathered her papers with quick, efficient movements. “Lots to catch up on.”

As she moved toward the door, she passed close enough that I caught a hint of the perfume I’d bought her in Paris. I kept my voice professional as I said, “Mia, could you send me the documentation we discussed, when you get a chance? And we should schedule time to discuss the Colorado logistics.”

She paused, keeping a professional distance. “Of course. I’ll email you the files and check my calendar for a good time to meet.”

Rebecca glanced between us, her expression neutral but calculating. “What’s happening in Colorado?”

“Industry symposium,” I lied smoothly. “Mia’s presenting our customer archetype system to the national sales leadership forum.” If you’re going to lie, you may as well go big.

“Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

“No idea and not my concern.”

Rebecca turned a little pale at my tone. “Oh, um, of course. My apologies.”

Meanwhile, Mia’s poker face was impeccable. “I should get those materials together. I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me.”

She left the conference room, Emily trailing behind her with a cheeky wink at me behind Rebecca’s back.

Rebecca lingered, organizing her notes with deliberate slowness. “The sales leadership forum sounds quite prestigious. Interesting choice to send Ms. Harris rather than Porter, given his seniority.”

“Mia developed the system,” I said evenly. “She’s the logical person to present it.”

Rebecca hummed noncommittally. “Of course. Just interesting timing, right after her... extended weekend in Europe for what was it again?”

I kept my expression neutral. “I believe she took personal time. I don’t track my employees’ private lives, Rebecca.”

“Well, that’s probably for the best,” she replied with a thin smile. “Ms. Harris has been performing exceptionally well lately. It would be a shame if anything were to... interfere with her rising star. Some might question whether her recent opportunities are entirely merit-based.”

The implication was crystal clear. My jaw tightened imperceptibly, but I maintained my corporate mask.

“Since HR is your purview, I’ll leave you to deal with any issues that arise.

” My tone was glacial, though inside I was imagining the satisfaction of watching her office belongings being packed into a cardboard box.

“Just looking out for the company’s best interests.” She gathered her things with a satisfied expression. “Have a productive day, Mr. Sullivan.”

When she was gone, I slumped back in my chair, running a hand through my hair.

Between my family’s sudden interest in my fictional engagement, Rebecca’s thinly veiled suspicions, and the increasing difficulty of maintaining professional distance with Mia during business hours, everything was spiraling toward a complexity I hadn’t anticipated.

I just hoped we were good enough actors to fool them all.