It felt like he’d cut off all my air.
My lungs wheezing for more.
“Don’t even think it, Jo, because those days are gone.” He downed the rest of his glass and reached into the fridge for another bottle. He poured it into his tumbler and held it against his chest, not too far from his lips. “You’re Walter’s daughter. You’re so fucking off-limits—on a level I don’t think you can even understand. What happened between us, whatever was starting, it’s over.”
“What?” My stomach was stabbing, to the point where I knew I was going to be sick. “Because I didn’t tell you?”
“Because your last name is Spade.” He laughed, although I could tell he didn’t think this was funny. “Why the hell do you have Jo Cartwright on your Instagram account? Did you change it just for me, so I wouldn’t figure it out?”
He really thought I was a liar.
That I would go to any lengths to manipulate him.
“Cartwright is my middle name, which is my mother’s maiden name, and what I prefer to go by. Spade comes with attention, with assumptions, and I don’t want to be the next Paris Hilton, Jenner. I wanted to go to college across the country and fit in just like everyone else.”
It took him several seconds to respond, and when he did, he said, “Your humbleness changes nothing. You still didn’t tell me who you were, who your father was. And now that you work for Spade Hotels, you’re my client too.”
“I’m just in entry-level marketing. I’m not your client, and we won’t be working together.”
“Aren’t you here in Utah?”
I released the bed to push against my chest, hoping the pressure would stop my heart from breaking. “Yes.”
“Are you going to be assisting your father with the build-out?”
I nodded.
“Then, we’re working together.”
I let the news pulse through me, my body reacting in so many different ways that I didn’t know whether to cover my face or look for a trash can. But before I did anything, I needed to get this out. “I was going to tell you tomorrow, when I flew in. I had the whole thing planned out in my head—how I was going to explain Vegas, how I was going to surprise you with my move to LA.” My head dropped, and I stared at the carpet. “I knew you were going to be angry. I knew it was going to cause a fight.” I finally glanced up. “But I didn’t expect this.”
He sat in one of the chairs and crossed his legs. He was closer than before, but he still felt a mile away. “I don’t think you understand the relationship I have with your father. I’ve worked with him since the start of my career. He was one of my very first clients. We don’t have a personal relationship, meaning we don’t travel together, I don’t meet the women he dates, nor did I know much about you other than the few times he’s referred to his daughter—his pride and joy, Joanna—but I respect him.” His legs uncrossed, his hands and the whiskey resting between them as he exhaled. “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the trust he has in me.”
I sucked in a mouthful of air. “Do you think that would happen if he found out about us? That he would … fire you?”
He chuckled. “You’re kidding, right?” He was looking at me like I was an alien. “Jo, do you not understand how this works? You don’t fuck your client’s daughter, especially when she’s only twenty-two years old and still in college. I make decisions regarding your father’s business, his investments, his wealth. I have access to his confidential records, things only he and I know. If he found out what I did—what we did—the trust would be gone.”
“I’ll make this right—”
“You can’t. It’s not even an option. You’re just going to report to his LA office as planned and never tell him what happened between us, and we’re just going to move on as though nothing ever did.”
My hand returned to the bed. “That’s it?” My stomach flipped, threatening to empty. “That’s the end of us? You’re just going to cut things off like I never mattered?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither is this.” Tears were at the rims of my eyes, and my lips wouldn’t stop shaking. “I care about you, Jenner. So much so that I rented an apartment fifteen minutes from your house just so I could be close. I begged my father for a job when he wanted me to have a few years of experience under my belt. I had dreams of us being together—”
“And those died the moment I found out who you really are.” He stared at me like he didn’t recognize me. “I realize we never made a commitment to each other, but since your trip to LA, things have been different between us. I’ve been entertaining the ways we could make this work.” His voice lowered, turning even grittier when he said, “And now, that’s impossible.”
I didn’t stop the tears.
I let them drip.
I could only be strong up until a point, and his words had sent me far over that edge.
Still wearing my jacket, I held the sleeves to the bottom of my eyes, catching the makeup that wanted to run. “Jenner …” I wiped my mouth, my spit turning so thick. “I’m not the girl who follows a guy up to his hotel room minutes after meeting him. I’ve slept with three people my entire life, including you, and the other two were long-term relationships. But the way you’ve made me feel since Vegas”—I stopped to inhale, to search for a way to describe this feeling—“is nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I’m completely lost when it comes to you—lost in feelings, lost in sensations, lost in hopes, in wants and desires. I didn’t do this to hurt you or to hurt us. All I’ve wanted is for us to be together, and I thought moving to LA, like I am, would make that come true.”
My heart throbbed as he stared at me, saying nothing.
My confession wasn’t enough.
I needed to do more.
“I did this all wrong,” I continued. “I should have tried harder to confess the truth to you. I should have fought through it no matter how difficult it was. But, God, this can’t be the end of us …”
His silence ate at me.
I couldn’t handle another second of it.
“There has to be a way we can salvage—”
He nodded toward the door. “I think you should go.”
What?
He wanted me to … go?
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Or the coldness I was seeing on his face.
How he had no desire to fix this, to work it out with my father, to find a way for us to be together.
I didn’t believe this was what he truly wanted.
“Jenner …”
He stood and moved back to the bar, refilling his glass. When he turned around, his expression was even harder than before. It was etched in ice. “This is irreparable, Jo. It doesn’t matter what you say … it’ll never work.”
A stillness moved through me that was worse than the silence.
This was pain.
An ache.
Like the darkness of a sky seconds before a storm.
I didn’t want to humiliate myself, begging if he saw no hope.