“Hey,” Jackson pauses and tilts my chin toward him. “What’s wrong?”

I smile and softly shake my head. “Nothing.”

“If I have to be here, you’re going to be happy.” His lip curls and one eye closes.

Leaning into my seat, I give myself a mental break. Everything will be fine. Right now, I have the man I love sitting at my side and he took me on a date.

“I’m happy. How could I not be? I won.”

He groans and takes my hand in his lap. “Do I get dinner after this?” I ask.

“No, but I did sign us up for the next 5k in town.”

I gasp with my jaw hanging. “I’m not running.”

“Oh, but you are. While I was paying for these lovely tickets, it popped up as an ad. I knew you’d want to support me the way I’m suffering—I mean, enjoying—what we’re doing now.” He rubs his hand on the stubble on his chin.

“I didn’t lose a bet.”

“Neither did I, yet here I am.” Jackson smiles and sits back in his chair.

As the first act begins, Jackson’s arm slides around my back and he pulls me close. I nestle into his side and kiss his neck. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jackson jokes quietly.

The show carries on and I look over at Jackson who laughs at Rafiki’s antics and I would swear I saw a tear in his eyes when Mufasa dies. Of course I’ll never be able to get him to admit it, but I will sure as hell taunt him with it.

The second act is being called and Jackson spent all of intermission explaining why it would be so much fun if we left early.

“That three-mile run is going to be so much fun.”

“You can’t make me run.”

Jackson leans forward and his warm breath blows across my neck. “I can make you want to run.”

“You’d have to do something pretty bad to make me run. Like lie or cheat,” I smile waiting for a witty response.

Jackson’s eyes flash with fear but he recovers quickly enough that I’m not sure that I saw it. Goosebumps form and my stomach tightens. I don’t know what to call the sudden wash of emotion. But I can’t help but worry there’s something lurking.

The lights go out and the stage lights up. I shake off the ominous feeling and I’m lost in the beauty of the colors, the way they brought the African grasslands to life in New York. Jackson and I hold hands through the show and I feel peace. Everything in my life feels right. I have a man I love desperately and he loves me back. I have a job I love more and more each day. And I have amazing friends and Neil is out of my life.

Things are good, and I’m truly and blissfully happy. There’s a small part nagging at me telling me not to get too comfortable, but I’ve been guilty of overreacting before. I suppress it and focus on the good.

Shit.

Of all the days to be running late it had to be today. The press launch is in two hours and Taylor is making sure everything is in order before we have to leave. I’m running around the office like a madwoman and she’s running out the door to get to Raven to set up.

I continue to check through emails and the seating charts so I know who’s who and which companies will give Raven the boost they need.

“Knock, knock.” I look up and see one of my bosses standing in the door.

“Mr. Cartright, please come in.” This is the absolute last distraction I need this morning.

He smiles and enters, looking around at the controlled chaos that is my office. “The press release for Raven is today, correct?”

I nod and grab the file I had opened and place it in my briefcase. At least today he’s seeing me at my best. I have a deep crimson, knee-length dress, my hair has large curls cascading down my back, and my makeup is camera ready. “Yes, sir. We’re happy to get this off the ground, and then of course we have the party tonight. Will you be attending?” I ask already knowing he won’t be. The partners go away for a sales meeting in Bermuda every year at this time. It’s really a huge golf retreat that they write off as a business meeting. I made the mistake of going once and was subjected to driving their drunk asses around in a golf cart for three days. To guarantee that doesn’t happen again, I try to book this month with anything I can.

“My flight is tomorrow, but when we return on Friday, the partners would like to meet with you. We’ve been highly impressed at how you’ve handled the Raven account. You were able to change the tone of the company in a short amount of time, even with Mr. Cole’s near death experience,” Mr. Cartright says.

“Thank you, I’m glad everyone is happy.” I’m beaming at his praise, and also wondering what this means for the promotion that has been on the table for what seems like forever. Taylor mentioned that Elle’s last account didn’t renew their three-month contract and the rumors are she is out of the running.

“If all goes well today, Catherine, I think you’ll find yourself sitting in a very lucrative new position.” He winks and strides out of the office.

As fantastic as his pep talk might be, I needed that distraction about as much as I need Jackson’s ten phone calls reminding me of what he wants done. We agreed it is best that in front of the camera, he is commanding and doesn’t appear injured. Tonight at the party, he’ll be able to blend and it will be much easier for him to remain sitting without anyone noticing.

My phone dings again.

Jackson: Are you avoiding me?

Me: No, I’m working. I will call you in the cab so you can micromanage a little more.

Jackson: I’m not micromanaging. I’m supervising. From home.

Me: Whatever you need to tell yourself to help you sleep at night.

He’s driving me nuts.

Jackson: I’d rather help you at night.

I laugh and throw my purse in my bag. Grabbing the files and my speech, I head to Raven for part one of my very long day. Once in the cab, I give him that promised call and allow him to say what he needs so he can relax.

“Hey, baby.” Jackson’s voice sounds strained.

“What are you doing? You sound out of breath.”

Jackson grunts, “I was just moving something.”

“Seriously?” I ask incredulously. Does he think he has some kind of magical healing powers? “You’re supposed to be resting, and you have the event tonight.”

“Look, I’m sitting here watching this on the damn computer. Cut me some slack.”

I lean my head back trying to understand, yet wanting to crawl through the phone and smack some sense into him. “Please, I’m begging you. Relax, rest, and no moving furniture, cooking, or anything else that can risk any injury.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I’m almost there. If you have any questions, call Taylor. She will have her phone on her, but once I get on stage, you won’t be able to change the outcome of anything. Trust me to do my job.”

He gives a long sigh. “I will. I’ll see you later. You’re coming home to change, right?”

I smile thinking of the dress sitting in the guest room. It’s a deep purple, one-shoulder, satin dress. It’s tight in the body and then flows out but pulls up every so many inches, accentuating my curves. It took my breath away when I saw it. Paired with my silver, jeweled shoes, I can’t wait to put it on. “Yes, I have to get my dress and pick up my hot date. Even though you can’t really be my date.”