Page 7

DELANEY

T he week crawls by like a wounded animal.

I should feel relieved. Jagger has backed off completely. He's been nothing but coldly professional, treating me exactly like every other volunteer.

Like I mean nothing to him.

I tell myself this is what I wanted. Space to focus on the job, on impressing Ms. Chen, on winning this account without the distraction of whatever twisted thing exists between him and me.

But the relief I expected never comes. Instead, there's this hollow ache in my chest that grows stronger every day.

I catch myself watching him during training sessions, waiting for him to single me out, to challenge me, to pay attention to me at all.

Instead, he looks right through me like I'm invisible.

It shouldn't bother me. It does anyway.

"You seem distracted," Brett says, sliding up beside me as we finish setting up camp after another day of trail maintenance. He's been circling like a vulture all week, waiting for me to slip up.

"Just focused," I reply, checking my knots one more time.

"Right." Brett's smirk is particularly annoying today. "Well, focus on this. Ms. Chen wants to have dinner with both of us tonight. She's got some ideas she wants to run by us."

My stomach drops. A dinner meeting means I need to be on my A-game. It also means spending more time with Brett, who's been increasingly smug as the week has progressed. He thinks Jagger's coldness toward me is a sign that I'm losing ground with the client.

Maybe he's right.

"Where?" I ask, already mentally cataloging what I packed that could pass for dinner-appropriate.

"The main lodge. Seven o'clock. Try to look professional." He gives me a once-over that makes my skin crawl. "Though I'm sure whatever you wear will be... adequate."

I want to punch him. Instead, I smile sweetly. "I'll do my best to keep up with your high standards."

He walks away looking pleased with himself, and I resist the urge to throw my water bottle at his head.

By seven o'clock, I've managed to pull together something that doesn't scream "I've been living in the woods for a week." Black slacks, a cream blouse, minimal makeup. Professional but not trying too hard. I walk into the lodge's small dining room feeling reasonably confident.

That confidence evaporates the moment I see who's sitting at the table.

Ms. Chen is there, of course, looking polished in a way that makes me feel underdressed despite my efforts. Brett is already schmoozing, leaning in with that fake-intimate body language he uses when he's trying to close a deal.

And across from them, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else, is Jagger.

He's traded his ranger uniform for dark jeans and a button-down shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the way his shoulders fill out the fabric. His hair is still damp from a shower, and when he looks up at me, I nearly pass out.

"Delaney!" Ms. Chen waves me over with genuine warmth. "Perfect timing. I was just telling Jagger how impressed I've been with both you and Brett this week."

I force a smile and take the empty chair, which, of course, puts me directly across from Jagger. "Thank you. This has been an incredible experience."

"I invited Jagger to join us because I've been thinking about expanding Trailbound's partnership," Ms. Chen continues, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. "There's so much potential for actual conservation work, educational programs, direct support for national forests like this one."

Brett jumps in immediately. "That's exactly the kind of forward-thinking approach that sets great brands apart.

The marketing opportunities alone are incredible.

Cause-related marketing is huge right now.

Consumers want to feel like their dollars are making a difference.

Very strategic positioning that could really drive sales. "

"Marketing opportunities?" Jagger's voice breaks through Brett's spiel. "Is that what you think conservation is about?"

Brett's smile falters slightly. "Well, no, of course not. But from a brand perspective…"

"From a brand perspective, you're looking at ways to exploit environmental concerns to sell more products." Jagger leans back in his chair, arms crossed. "Let me guess, every purchase plants a tree? Buy a jacket, save a forest?"

The temperature in the room drops about ten degrees. Brett's face flushes red as he scrambles for a comeback.

This is my moment. My chance to step up and show what Morrison & Associates can really do.

"Actually, I think there's a much more meaningful approach we could take,” I say.

Everyone turns to look at me. Including Jagger, whose expression shifts from polite disinterest to curiosity.

I pull out my phone and open the notes app where I've been jotting down ideas all week.

"National forests and parks are facing a funding crisis.

They're operating on a budget that hasn't kept pace with increased visitation or maintenance needs.

Meanwhile, outdoor recreation contributes over 887 billion dollars annually to the U.S. economy."

Ms. Chen leans forward, intrigued. "Go on."

"What if Trailbound created a campaign that actually addressed the disconnect?

Not just 'buy our gear to save the planet' messaging, but real action A dual giving campaign with multiple touchpoints. Customers can add a donation at checkout that goes directly to park conservation. Plus, stores could host quarterly customer events that raise money. Each store would support local businesses while building real community around shared values. Employees can volunteer their time for trail maintenance, educational programs, habitat restoration.”

Brett tries to interject. "That sounds expensive."

I don't let him finish. "The ROI is that Trailbound becomes the brand that doesn't just talk about loving the outdoors, it proves it.

Customer loyalty goes through the roof because they're part of something meaningful.

Employee engagement skyrockets because they're contributing to something bigger than profit margins. "

"Plus," I continue, looking directly at Jagger, "partnerships with rangers and park services mean access to real experts. Real stories. Real impact that you can measure in acres preserved, trails maintained, species protected."

The silence that follows is electric. Ms. Chen is practically glowing, and even Brett looks grudgingly impressed despite himself.

But it's Jagger's reaction that stops me cold. A slow grin spreads across his face as he watches me, and after a week of him treating me like I don't exist, the attention feels like stepping into sunlight.

"I love it," Ms. Chen says finally. "It's exactly the kind of authentic engagement our customers are craving. Jagger, what do you think? Would you be open to that kind of partnership?"

Jagger's eyes never leave my face. "I think," he says slowly, "it's the smartest thing I've heard all week. The kind of program that could actually make a difference instead of just making people feel good about buying things they don't need."

Heat floods my cheeks at the praise, but I keep my expression professional. "It would take careful planning and the right partners, but I think Trailbound is uniquely positioned to lead this kind of initiative."

"Absolutely." Ms. Chen is already making notes on her phone. "I want to hear more about implementation. Timeline, budget projections, potential pilot programs."

The conversation flows from there, ideas building on ideas. Brett tries to insert himself whenever he can, but it's clear the momentum has shifted. This is my pitch now, my vision, and everyone at the table knows it.

Jagger speaks up about technical details for national forest operations and regulatory requirements. When he does contribute, it's always in support of what I'm proposing, adding depth and credibility to my ideas.

We're a team, I realize. We're working together instead of against each other, and the result is something bigger than either of us could have created alone.

By the time Ms. Chen calls it a night, I'm buzzing with adrenaline and possibility. This could actually work. Not just the campaign, but the entire partnership. Trailbound could become the gold standard for corporate environmental responsibility.

"Excellent work tonight, Delaney," Ms. Chen says as we stand to leave. "I'll want to see a full presentation, but I'm very encouraged by what I've heard."

"Thank you. I'll have it ready by the end of the week."

Brett shakes hands with everyone, his smile tight around the edges. He knows he's lost ground tonight.

Ms. Chen heads toward the exit, Brett trailing behind her like a lost puppy trying to salvage what he can of the evening.

Which leaves me alone with Jagger.

The silence stretches between us, heavy with everything we haven't said all week. He's studying my face like he's trying to solve a puzzle, and I have to fight the urge to fidget under his gaze.

"That was impressive," he says finally. "You really know your stuff."

"Thanks." I aim for casual, but my voice comes out slightly breathless.

"You've been doing your homework. Those numbers, the policy details, you didn't just pull that out of thin air."

I shrug, trying to ignore the way his praise makes my heart flip. "I like to be prepared."

"Is that what you were doing all week? Preparing?"

There's something loaded in the question, something that makes me think we're not just talking about work anymore. "What else would I be doing?"

His mouth curves into a dangerous smile. "I can think of a few things."

My stomach flips, but I force myself to remain calm. We're not doing this. We can't do this.

"I should go," I say quickly, standing and gathering my phone and purse.

I make it three steps toward the exit before I hear his chair scrape against the floor. By the time I’m in the hallway, he's right behind me.

"Delaney."

I turn, and suddenly he's there, backing me against the wall beside a display of old park photos.

"You were magnificent tonight," he says. "Watching you tear apart Brett's bullshit and build something real in its place. Fuck. You have no idea what that did to me."

My throat goes tight. The way he's looking at me makes every rational thought in my head scatter like leaves in the wind.

"I've tried to stay away," he continues, stepping closer until I'm trapped between him and the wall.

"But I want you, kitten. I know you won't say yes because you're too busy being noble, too worried about doing the right thing.

But what if I don't let you say no? What if I take the choice away from you completely? Then it's not your fault anymore."

The words send a dangerous thrill through me.

"We can't," I say, but dammit, I want to. My body is already responding to his proximity, to the promise in his voice. "This is crazy."

But even as I say it, I'm leaning into him instead of pulling away. My resolve is crumbling with every second he stands this close.

"Meet me at the outpost tonight. Stop thinking. Stop analyzing. Just come to me."

He turns and walks away before I can respond, leaving me pressed against the wall with my heart rocketing against my ribs and my skin on fire.

The outpost. I know where he means—the old ranger station about a mile up the trail, abandoned but still maintained for emergency use.

This is insane. Reckless.

But as his words echo in my head. What if I don't let you say no .

A week of his cold indifference has been torture. Pretending I don't want him, that I don't lie awake thinking about his hands on my body, has been slowly killing me.

He's offering me an escape from my own conscience. A way to have what I want without admitting I chose it.

And maybe I don’t want a choice anymore.