CHAPTER NINETEEN
Chapter Sixteen
Jackson
Although my days were unpredictable because of work, I'd always had a steady routine: the gym, work, meeting clients and socializing with friends and my siblings. The week that followed the trip to my parents' home became subtly different: I went home more. Since moving into my house, it had been more of a place where I slept and showered, rather than actually lived, but that week it was where I would see Vanessa, for breakfast, dinner or just before we went to bed. There was noise inside, the sound of her voice, or her footsteps or the music she played while she got ready. It felt real and exciting and I realized that as busy as I had been before, it had been tinged with a strange shade of loneliness. The nights we'd spent together had totaled more than the nights we'd spent apart.
My phone started to vibrate against the desk during a rather heated phone call with another solicitor. A stream of messages appeared, which I kept glancing at in case one was from Vanessa. Eventually, once I'd disposed of the phone call – unfortunately not the other solicitor – I got around to reading them. It appeared my parents were back from Canada and Marie was in her usual fine form, judging by the first message.
Marie: We're home. I did imagine that one or two of you might have been here to greet us but then I forgot that ALL of you have inherited the workaholic gene from your father.
Maxwell: Congratulations on being back in the country. Tell Dad the file v. Neville is nearing completion. We should get a judgement on Friday.
Marie: Thanks for that Max. We had a great time, it's good of you to ask. And you're all welcome to the winery that you'll one day inherit.
Maxwell: Sorry. You know I'm shit with saying the right thing.
Claire: Ignore Max. He's still a knob. That hasn't changed while you were away. How are your livers?
Marie: Recovering. Slowly. Your dad's gone to play golf with Geoff and discuss the funeral. How's Amelie?
Maxwell: She's managing. Back at work and dealing with things with perspective. She'll be fine.
Marie: Good. I'm glad you're all looking after her. We're expecting all of you over – those that are in the country – the weekend after next. Let me know of any plus ones (I'm still living in hope for grandchildren before I'm 60.)
There was a long break in the time between texts. Once Marie had the head's up about me and Vanessa she would become over-enthusiastic. Now I wished I'd been nicer to the former girl and boyfriends of my siblings. That might have curbed her enthusiasm for any of us being in new relationships.
Marie: Silence. That means you're all following The Code. Let me see who will be the first one to break...
Marie was the only person who ever referenced The Code, and she only did it to extract information from whichever one of us was adulting best that day. Back when we were kids, The Code was used as a nickname for silence, for covering up misdemeanors on who had broken windows or eaten the last of the pie in the fridge. I knew Seph and Ava at least would be desperate to tell her about Vanessa and unleash the wave of hysteria it would cause. I decided to take control of the situation and determined that Marie only received the right information and not some hashed up fairy-tale-slash-porn that Seph would create.
Me: I'm bringing someone.
Marie: You're outing yourself????
Ava: Well, we always knew he spent a bit too long in the male changing rooms at the gym...
Seph: And that hair – it screams Pride!
Payton: We need to let Vanessa know: he's using her to hide!
Ava: I'm so proud. I always wanted a gay sibling. Well done, Jackson!
Marie: Stop! You heathen children! I didn't mean it like that, I meant he was informing me himself rather than one of the rest of you spilling the beans. I take it she is called Vanessa? Is she sane?
Me: Thanks, Marie.
Marie: Lolz.
Ava: Jeez Mum, stop trying to be trendy. Use the emoticons.
Marie: What's an emoticon?
Ava: The smiley face buttons. It's less cringe-worthy then you using abbreviations. Anyway, our lovely brother has been spending lots of time with Vanessa watching Netflix and chilling.
Marie: I hope you've been taken her out for meals and maybe to the theatre or something civilized and not just staying in watching TV.
Seph: That's not what 'Netflix and Chill' means, Mum.
Marie: That's what I say to your dad when we have a night in, 'why don't we watch Netflix and chill?'
Max: Please don't tell us anymore. Can we invoke The Code on this one?
Marie: I'll just Google it. Hang on.
Marie: Oh.
Marie: I've just texted your dad with what it means. I'll make sure to let you know his response. Now. Vanessa. Is this the same Vanessa from the marketing company who's doing the ball?
Jackson: Yeah, that's how we met.
Marie: She's lovely. Are you bringing her a week on Friday? It'll be great to meet her. We've spoken a few times but she didn't mention she was dating you. Are you sure you're dating her? She might just think you're being friends. She's very pretty and pleasant, she does know you think you're dating her, right?
Max: PMSL. That's just made my day. Thanks, Marie.
Me: I'm pretty sure she knows we're dating and she doesn't just think I'm a weird stalker. It's the same Vanessa. I'm sure Claire or Payton will give you more details when they phone you.
Me: Max, you're a shit.
Marie: Your dad's just texted back to say that he knew 'watch Netflix and chill' was a euphemism for having casual sex and was going to explain once we had an empty house.
Max: I'm deleting this conversation from both my phone and my brain. Then I'm going to check with Vanessa that she agrees she's in a relationship with Jackson and isn't about to file a complaint about him stalking. I'm concerned he may be fantasizing again.
I rang Max before he had a chance to step outside of his office and find Vanessa, who was spending a day here to finalize the marketing campaign that would support the rebrand.
"What's up?" Max said, answering before the phone had even rang. "You are in the office next to me."
"We've not had the conversation yet," I said. "Stay there, I'm coming to you." I heard him curse as I hung up.
Twenty seconds later I closed his office door behind me and sat on the throne-like chair he insisted on keeping as a 'part of history'. I had figured it was probably the last place he'd ever had sex and was, therefore, an important keepsake.
"What conversation? We talk about fifty times a day. Sometimes we even speak about topics that aren't work or rugby related," Max said, stretching his arms. We'd hit the gym heavy this morning, spotting each other. I would hurt tomorrow.
"Not a conversation between us, you idiot. Between me and Vanessa. That conversation. The relationship one," I said. "I didn't want you finding her and mentioning it when she might not think we're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, she might not want to be in a relationship, after living with that dickhead of an ex..."
"Jacks."
"Yeah?"
"Shut the fuck up."
I stroked my beard. This was out of my comfort zone. I went out with women; I fucked them; a couple I had seen on an exclusive but casual basis for a period of time. But I hadn't had one stay at mine, on work nights, for consecutive days, or take up space with her shoes in my cupboards, or leave half the contents of a make-up counter in my bathroom before. And now I was talking to my elder brother about it, who was terminally single.
"Why wouldn't she think it's a relationship?"
"Because we haven't said it is," I kept pulling my beard. "And it's not even been three weeks."
"People get married after less," Max said, clicking his shoulder which had to be one of his most annoying habits. "What would she do if you took another woman out for dinner on a date."
"I don't know. I wouldn't do that."
"Hypothetically, Jackson. How would she react?"
"I think she'd be hurt and upset. Her flatmate would kill me." I winced at the thought: Sophie scared the shit out of me when she wasn't even trying to be violent.
"Where is she sleeping tonight?"
"At mine."
"Tomorrow?"
"At mine."
"When's she next staying at her own place?"
I re-tied my hair. As far as I was concerned there was no need for her not to stay at my place but if I said that to anyone I would sound desperate and domineering. "I don't know. We don't plan out our diaries in advance, just the next couple of days."
"I think you're in a relationship, Jacks. I think she thinks she's in a relationship too. But maybe you need to have this conversation with her sooner rather than later, especially because when Marie meets her you know she'll start planning your wedding and naming your children," he said, looking at me curiously.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No, you're giving me that look. The same one you gave me before I told you and Dad I was doing my MBA, like you already knew what I was going to do," I said. I might have been the managing partner but Max still had the big brother trump card.
He pulled his arms behind his back, flexing muscles. "Really? You want to know what I think?"
"Yeah. I do."
"It might freak you the fuck out."
"It won't."
He shrugged. "I think Vanessa's the real deal for you. She's your Marie." The referral to our step-mother threw me back. After our mum died, Dad was left in a mess with no idea how to look after four children and very little desire to either. Then he'd met Marie, an Irish-American lawyer who ran her family's New York firm and she gave him emergency resuscitation, bringing him back to life. He idolized her, as did we, and that was why none of us, especially myself, Max and Claire, had ever had a truly serious relationship: we wanted what they had.
"Fuck." I pulled my hair out of its knot.
"Wish you'd get that cut," Max said, scowling. "Fucking douche hair."
I looked up at him, trying not to laugh at what I was about to say, knowing the shit he was going to give me. "Vanessa likes it."
He shook his head. "You want me to add to my statement?"
"What's Claire said about it – Vanessa, not my hair." I had no doubt that they had discussed it.
"Honestly, not a great deal as she's heading down the rabbit hole into Wonderland with the Worthington case, but she agrees. And she likes Vanessa, but she's worried that you will let things happen too fast," Max said. "Let's get together, the three of us, for dinner on Wednesday. We haven't done that for a while."
"Done," I said, although I was already thinking about Vanessa that evening and what she would do, Claire's concerns ringing in my ears like a thudding bell. "I'm going to see if Van wants a coffee."
"Good plan," Max said, turning back to his computer.
I paused, curious and concerned. "How are you?" I asked. He was everybody's rock - except his secretary's: he was her nightmare – and rarely showed what he was feeling.
"Busy." He didn't want to speak. I knew there was something occurring in the background and had my suspicions, as did Vanessa.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No. Not even casually."
"What about your professors?" It was rare for Max to not have a fuck buddy, who we had nicknamed the professors as so many of them worked at the universities or were Ph.D. students.
"No one. My right hand and Pornhub."
I stood up, knowing that was the end of the conversation. "I won't suggest a double date then."
He smiled vacantly, his mind back on his work. I left him to it, seeking out Vanessa and wondering if I was deeper in with her than I thought.
I paused outside the door of the office she used with Kirsty, raised voices loud enough to hear.
"I disagree. That isn't the sort of image Jackson told me we were trying to put out there. If these are going in magazines it needs to be more vibrant, like what Pritchards have done. I don't see why your company's doing this anyway. Are you sure Jackson's not just saying yes to your ideas because you're fucking him? Is that what you do with all your clients?"
I decided that it was the right moment to walk in.
Kirsty was standing up, pulling an A1 sized advert from the wall. Vanessa was sitting back in a chair, saying nothing, the adverts that had been designed for the tube and business magazines spread out on the table. I'd already approved them, along with Max, when we'd met with her and Josh the previous Friday. We'd also had the photos to view from the magazine interview we'd done. Seph had been like a fucking kid in a sweet shop, trying on different suits and jackets and making the most of the mirror. Unfortunately, he'd been told by the photographer he was a 'natural', which had made Max and I piss our sides, but that hadn't stopped him from still talking about it. One of Vanessa's colleagues had suggested making a change to the ads and using some of the photos, the arty ones with our faces in profile or the ones where you could see our backs. They were now pinned to walls of the office, probably for us to look at and approve or otherwise later.
"Is there a problem, Kirsty?" HR had spoken to her about her reference. She'd said it was written by someone who worked at her previous firm who'd had a falling out with them, hence the confusion. I wasn't convinced.
"No. I was just expressing how I thought these ads weren't right for us. There are much better pictures and with a splash of color they'd stand out," Kirsty said, smiling at me and pushing her chest forward.
"We tried that. Cole Henderson had some put together that were similar in design to Pritchards but Max and I decided against them as they were too similar and these were more what we were looking for. I'm disappointed too that you think I'm the type of boss who would let their relationship impact on their business. Maybe I'm not the sort of person you should be working for if you think that badly of me," I kept my voice calm and unemotional, no edge to be heard.
"You're firing me?" she said, horrified.
I shook my head. "Not at all, although I find how you've spoken to Vanessa very unprofessional and it does give me concerns as to how you interact with potential clients. What if I'd have been taking clients to the meeting room? And you must be aware that actually, Vanessa's firm is now a client of this company."
She started to glow red, although I wasn't sure if it was with embarrassment or anger. Then the tears began to drop. Neither I nor Vanessa moved. "I'm sorry. Things are difficult at the moment: family stuff, you know. The thing is, I like working here. I'm sorry for what I said, I think you're a great boss and it's an honor to work for you. I am trying to learn what I can from Vanessa as well as at the same time organizing the client lunches and the Tuesday breakfast socials..."
My expression didn't change, staying impassive. "We'll speak more about it later. Vanessa, can I speak with you? Maybe get a coffee?"
She stood up, wearing a fitted blue dress with a V-neck and heels high enough for me to want her to leave them on later. "Sure," she said. "Alice from my office will be here this afternoon as she's going to take over from me with the ads and general logistics for the next couple of weeks. I hope you'll make her welcome, Kirsty." There was a slight undertone to her voice that I hadn't heard before.
"Sure." Kirsty started to repin the poster to the wall. "Enjoy your coffee." She beamed at me and I made a mental note to speak to HR again in the afternoon.
As soon as we left the building I put my hand on the small of her back, guiding her in the direction of Amelie's, trying to put Kirsty out of my mind. I'd spoken with her the week before about the ideas she'd sent me, praising her for her efforts and explaining that quite a bit of what she had suggested was already being incorporated into the rebrand. I also suggested that she started a monthly networking event with other companies local to the area as a social event but also as a way to pass on services. She'd looked into similar setups and started the process with the first one being arranged for two weeks' time. I'd been receiving very regular emails from her since and had been asked to discuss it with her further during drinks after work. Max was mildly amused at my 'stalker' as he billed her.
"That was well timed," Vanessa said, sitting down in what had become our usual table when it was free. "She's been telling me horror stories about you, you know."
I chuckled. "I knew she would. Max thinks she's after me."
"I think he's right. But she's young and very, very immature. I wouldn't be too worried. She is doing a good job of the networking breakfasts to be fair to her," Vanessa said. "Once I'm out of the way I think she'll calm down and probably up her game. She has picked things up."
"I've no doubt. Is that why Alice's coming over here?"
"Partly," she said, giving Amelie a nod, confirming that she was having her usual coffee. "We took on two big new clients on Friday and I need to oversee the start of those projects." She had met with Alice, Josh, and Sally last week to define their roles and look at the possibility of bringing in new people, expanding the workforce to meet the demand. "Alice will be able to coordinate everything here on in. We're ahead of schedule too and everything is arranged for the ball."
"Seph spoke to you about the valuations?"
She looked relaxed, more so than I thought she would be. "I need to speak with the other three about it. To keep things straightforward, I'm going to offer him what Seph has suggested he thinks he'll be advised to accept by his counsel. It's more than I wanted to put in on my own, but with the others buying in, I'll end up with a decent cushion in my own account in case anything goes wrong or one of the others does pull out."
"It's coming together."
"I need to start looking for an apartment too. We've agreed on a price this morning. You want to help me look?"
No, I didn't. I wanted her to move in with me, although I also knew it was far too fast. "You don't have to rush. Maybe let everything settle with the business first and then start looking to move." I hoped I didn't sound too much of a creeper.
"You're right. I have a tendency to move too quickly sometimes. I just feel I've taken up enough of Sophie's space already," she said, folding her legs under her. We were sitting facing each other, tucked away in a booth for privacy and I ached to lean across the table and tuck her hair behind her ear; that lose tendril that drove me wild.
"Speaking of moving quickly, or maybe not," I paused, watching her eyes. "Dad and Marie are back home and are having a mad family drink and eat all you can the weekend after next. Do you want to come with me?" I could've added more: you don't have to if you don't want; don't feel obligated; I'd really like you to or any number of pointless words. A straightforward closed question seemed the best way to be honest.
Vanessa looked thoughtful, her brown frowning as it did when she lost herself in something. "Yes," she said, looking up at me. "I would. I know you wouldn't have asked me unless you wanted me there. Is this what you wanted to speak about?"
"Yes," I said. Amelie brought the coffees over, including a couple of pieces of cake which Vanessa eagerly grabbed. "My step-mum, Marie, is great. She's also completely insane and she's not used to us, any of us, bringing girlfriends or boyfriends back – although Payts did bring a girlfriend back once, but that was to shock my dad more than anything. She's going to be really excited to meet you. I don't want you to be overwhelmed."
Vanessa ran her fingers up and down the glass coffee cup, the corners of her mouth turning up as she kept her eyes away from mine. Thinking again. "Will you be overwhelmed?"
I looked away. "Possibly a bit, but not in a bad way. I want you to go with me; I want my parents to meet you and it's usually a good weekend when we all get together so I think you'd enjoy it. But I know for Marie it will be a big deal and, yeah, I suppose for me too. And I don't know if it's too soon, when should you meet my family? How long is the going rate?" I took a slice of cake. I was nervous and needed something to do with my hands that didn't involve stroking my beard or retying my hair.
"I don't think there is a set amount of time, Jackson. If we're both comfortable with it then I think it's fine. Who am I to you when people ask?"
I laughed and looked sheepish. "Who do you want to be?"
She held my look, raising one brow. I wasn't being let off this one.
"You're mine," I said, wondering how I was going to dig myself out of this one if she didn't like it. "I know that sounds possessive, but I want you to be mine."
"If that's how I label it, some people are going to think we have a serious case of kink going on."
I thought of the previous night and how I'd had her tied up and blindfolded, taking her to the edge of orgasm and not allowing her over. Eventually, I had, and she'd come so hard she'd cried. Nowhere near as kinky as it could be, but certainly not vanilla. "Girlfriend then. I think that covers it."
"I'll take that," she said, moving her feet down and running one shoe up and down my leg. "And I'll take the rest of your cake too."
I passed it to her, knowing at that moment I was well and truly owned.