What do you mean, you can’t get the money back?” Jackson paces across my bedroom, a phone jammed against his ear. Behind him the bedsheets are still twisted from this morning. “That’s ridiculous.”

A headache snowballs behind my eyes. I don’t want to leave Jackson alone but watching the muscles of his back twitch into tight knots starts a fresh wave of panic clawing at my throat.

Coffee. I need coffee. I slink to the kitchen to start a fresh batch brewing, my chest so tight I need to hold onto the counter and take a deep breath before I can finally reach for the beans.

The fucking lube CEO with the rocket scientist dad pulled a fast one on us. On me. The company that had promised to make lube for me, the company that was so quick to take my money, my dad’s money, has just as quickly disappeared from the face of the earth. From everything I can see, I got totally, completely scammed. I’m here and I’m so fucking stuck in this town that I want to scream. Instead, Jackson’s doing it for me, yelling into the phone with the Better Business Bureau.

I’ve never seen him this angry—not even when Conor took Jackson’s car out before he had his learner’s permit and put an eight-inch gash on the driver’s side door. Every muscle in Jackson’s body is wired for a fight and a scowl replaces the easy, lazy smile he wore this morning.

I fill the Penis and Vagina mugs with scalding coffee and carry them into the bedroom. I set Jackson’s on the windowsill by the bed, waiting for a sign. He catches my eye, giving a small shake of his head.

No luck.

I grimace and take a sip of coffee so hot I can’t taste it. My body feels numb.

“You’ll be hearing from us soon,” Jackson says, hanging up the phone. He sits down carefully on the edge of the bed, like I’m either going to break down in tears or burn down the house. Either option is equally likely. Jackson takes the coffee mug from my hands and sets it by his cup. “There’s nothing they can do for a little while.” He pulls me down onto the bed next to him and wraps an arm around me. “Since the wire transfer has already gone through, there’s no way to get reimbursement on the money just yet. We’ve got some actions to take, but nothing’s going to happen overnight.”

I clench my hands so hard my fingernails carve tiny half-moons into my palms. “Do they think I should take the company to small claims court?”

“It’s worth a try.”

I think about the money needed just to get to court and tears burn in my throat. I’ll start the claim because no one screws me over, but for now I’m stuck. My days stretch out indefinitely, an endless string of shifts at Holy Grounds, the seasons spiraling through while I stay here in Swan’s Hollow. Boston feels farther and farther away.

“Back to the drawing board,” I say. “Or more like, back to Holy Grounds.”

“No.” Jackson squeezes my knee. “You’re not giving up. That’s not what Natalie Bloom does.”

I look up at him with a small, sad smile. “The new Natalie Bloom is a little older and a lot more tired, Jackson. I can ask Mr. Spence for extra shifts, but I won’t be making back that money for a long time. Which means no Penchant.”

Jackson presses a kiss to my forehead. “The new Natalie has me.” It’s such a line, dammit. I want to believe him but I can’t. Despite whatever he said this morning, I don’t have Jackson. Not really.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

Jackson’s eyes burn with determination. “Let’s try again. The lube idea is still solid. We’re going to have a logo and a package design done soon. Why waste all that work?”

“You might have missed the part where I don’t have any money left to buy inventory.” I barely have enough to cover the deposit for a new apartment. How am I going to pay back my dad when I can’t even pay my rent? When I think about it, my stomach roils in desperation.

“I have money.”

For a minute I just blink at Jackson. If he’s saying what I think he’s saying, he’s crazy. “Nope. You have money for Wirth & Sons. I’m not touching that. Your business is just as important as mine.”

“The whole point of me working with you in the first place is that Penchant is a faster way to earn money than investing in the stock market, or anything else I can think of. The returns are so much higher. So if we can keep the momentum going and get some payout for our hard work, we can both win.”

I shake my head. “No, Jackson. I can’t.”

Jackson maneuvers off the bed, kneeling down at my feet so he can look me in the eye. He’s close and he’s solid and he’s not backing down. “This isn’t the same as one of your stories that you never sent out into the world. You’re not quitting this, Natalie.”

My body stiffens as I absorb his words. He doesn’t mean them as a dig, but that’s still how they feel.

“That’s what I do, though, Jackson. I quit things. I couldn’t even make it through college.” I hate second-guessing myself but today it all feels like part of this enormous fucking pattern. All this unspoken shame rises up and for a minute I see myself as everyone else must have—my dad, Gayle, Mrs. Keaton. I’m a dropout who couldn’t even support myself once I left my boyfriend. My stomach clenches, painful and tight.

“Who cares about school?” Jackson looks so earnest, like for all the world it really doesn’t matter. “You’re too smart for that anyway.” It’s easy for him to say, though. He actually has his degree.

“I’m not sure how true that is,” I scoff.

Jackson rests his chin on my knees, the heat of him seeping through my jeans. He peers up at me with those sharp green eyes. “If you don’t want to do this because of you, that’s one thing. But if you don’t want to do this just because I’m helping, that’s another.” He sighs, dragging his hands up my thighs. “Do you trust me, Nat?”

No. I don’t. My face gets suddenly hot and a lump forms in my throat. Why do I feel like I’m going to cry?

“It’s not you,” I say.

“But?”

“I told you I got burned before.”

“So it’s because of your shitty ex-boyfriend?”

And also because of you. I shrug. It’s easier to let Jackson think it’s just about Matthew. Admitting the truth would be like sliding splinters under my fingernails. The corners of my lips pull down.

Jackson must see that he’s struck a nerve, but he squeezes my thighs and continues. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll restructure our agreement for everyone’s peace of mind. Then we’ll get back to it with new funding. Better research, better vetting of suppliers. We’ll try to get credit terms so our money goes a little further. And we’ll make this even better than before.”

I want so badly for it to be that easy. It feels too comfortable, too safe, to rely on him. I’m already trusting him with this secret that I’ve only told Abigail about. I want to drink my coffee and lick my wounds and feel sorry for myself, but he won’t let me.

Jackson keeps his chin on my knees, and the feeling of his body on mine roots me to the here and now. The longer we sit like this, the longer I have to think about his ridiculous proposal. If I take away the idea that it’s Jackson providing the money, and if I squint hard enough, I can see the plan coming together. I can see it working. Still.

I’m going to need to start splitting my Holy Grounds paycheck three ways: part for my dad, part for Jackson, part for me. And the part for me won’t be enough to pay for the deposit and two months’ rent on my own place. Literally the only way I’m going to be able to pay my bills is if Penchant works right out of the gate. Should I take the gamble?

If I say yes to this, it means there’s no going back. With my plans for world domination. With Jackson.

What would Delilah Overbrook do?

I sigh, because Delilah Overbrook, who is also part of Natalie Bloom, is fearless and bold and takes no prisoners. When Delilah Overbrook believes in something, she goes all in.

“Okay,” I tell Jackson.

His face breaks into a smile. “Really?” His hands are warm on my body and I think about all the reasons I want my business to succeed.

“Yes.” I run a hand through his messy, glorious hair. “Let’s make this work.”