Chapter 2 - THE KISS THAT CHANGED THE RULES
I did not react.
That was something men like Ryan never understood.
The more dangerous the information, the calmer I became.
Jenna, however, knew me too well.
She felt the change in my hand at her waist.
“What did he mean?” she whispered.
Ryan smiled.
“Ask your boyfriend.”
Then he walked away.
Jenna turned to me.
“Evan.”
“Not here.”
“You don’t get to say something ominous and then become mysterious.”
“Apparently I do.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Then her mother approached.
Linda Hart looked furious.
“You embarrassed Ryan.”
Jenna stared at her.
“He proposed to me in front of sixty people after I told him repeatedly that I don’t want him.”
“He loves you.”
“He doesn’t listen to me.”
“He made a mistake.”
“He gave away my address.”
Linda lowered her voice.
“You always make everything harder than it needs to be.”
Jenna flinched.
That was enough.
I stepped forward.
“Mrs. Hart.”
She looked at me.
“Jenna said no.”
“That’s between my daughter and Ryan.”
“No. The moment he ignored her answer, it became everyone’s problem.”
Linda’s expression hardened.
“And what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”
Jenna inhaled.
I knew I could give a simple answer.
We were pretending.
I could smile, say something charming, and end the conversation.
Instead, I looked at Jenna.
She looked nervous.
Beautiful.
Brave.
And tired of being treated like her decisions required approval.
“My intentions,” I said, “are to make sure no one ever makes her feel guilty for choosing her own life.”
Silence.
Jenna’s eyes softened.
Her mother had no response.
Then Matt appeared.
“Mom, leave her alone.”
Linda walked away.
Jenna looked at me.
“That was…”
“Convincing?”
“Dangerously convincing.”
We stepped onto the hotel balcony.
The city lights stretched beneath us.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she said, “Who was Daniel?”
“My brother.”
Her face changed.
“You never told me you had one.”
“He died six years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“What happened?”
I looked through the glass doors.
Ryan was watching us.
“Later.”
Jenna followed my gaze.
“He’s trying to make you react.”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe we should give him something else to react to.”
I turned.
“What are you suggesting?”
Her cheeks turned pink again.
She stepped closer.
“You said kissing was optional.”
My pulse slowed.
Everything else disappeared.
“Jenna, if I kiss you, I need you to understand something.”
“What?”
“I’m not good at pretending.”
She swallowed.
Then whispered, “Maybe stop pretending.”
I kissed her.
Not for Ryan.
Not for her mother.
Not for anyone watching.
For two years of restraint.
For every coffee she had stolen.
Every argument she had won.
Every morning I had watched her enter my office and reminded myself she worked for me.
When we separated, Jenna stared at me.
Neither of us had a clever remark.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Jenna entering her apartment the previous evening.
Taken from across the street.
Below it were six words.
STOP DIGGING INTO DANIEL OR SHE DIES.
May you like
I looked back through the ballroom doors.
Ryan Mercer was no longer there.
