Haley

“Good afternoon.” Kenneth James strode into the classroom, and the chatter immediately died down as he took his place behind the lectern.

He plugged a cord into his tablet, and a slideshow with the image of a chessboard appeared on the screen behind him. Standing tall in his tailored suit with his blond hair combed away from his face, his gaze was shrewd, assessing.

“I selected the five of you for this program based on your grades, your performance, and your pursuit of excellence. The next four weeks will push your limits, challenge you, and prepare you for your future roles at Zenith.

“Each week, we will focus on a different component of strategy, with field exercises and tests throughout the program. There are no grades; you either pass or you fail.” His eyes swept over my fellow trainees, briefly pausing when they landed on me.

“Let's get started.”

The slide changed, and he launched into a lecture on locational tactics. He was thorough but succinct, providing a broad overview of everything from topographical challenges to the issues inherent in buildings—complicated hallways, hidden exits, and any number of unexpected factors. An hour later, he concluded his speech and answered several questions before disconnecting the tablet from the projector.

His brow furrowed as he concentrated on the screen for several moments, angrily swiping his finger over the surface. “I apologize,” he said, returning his attention to the class, “non-stop e-mails are one of my least favorite perks of being a regional director.

“I'd like to spend the remainder of our time today getting to know you individually.” He turned his attention to the guy seated next to me, a trainee from the Miami office. “Ben, please come with me. The rest of you can use this time to work on your assignment for the week.”

I navigated to the online portal and noticed an alert that grades had been posted for an assignment in another course. My score flashed on the screen—ninety-five percent. While I knew I should be happy with that number, I was frustrated with myself for missing points on the essay portion of the hostile negotiation segment.

While I was logged-in, I decided to schedule my next coaching session for the Spanish immersion program. I found the daily chats enjoyable, especially when I was able to work with my favorite coach, Alejandra. She was great at engaging me on topics I enjoyed, to the point that I almost forgot we were speaking in a foreign language.

With those two items taken care of, I opened the tab for Kenneth's course and skimmed the materials. I had already finished reading the first chapter of this week’s assignment when Ben returned.

“Haley, you’re up.” He re-claimed his seat and immediately started talking with one of the other girls in our class. I wished I could gain some insight on his one-on-one chat, but I didn’t want to keep Kenneth waiting.

As I strode down the hallway with more confidence than I felt, I reassured myself that the interview was a perfunctory matter. I’d already been accepted to the course; he merely wanted to get to know us.

When I peeked into the classroom, Kenneth glanced up from his tablet and grinned. Even though it was rare for me to interact with Patrick in a business context, and despite the fact that he was a self-proclaimed workaholic, I still couldn't imagine him chained to a tablet or phone. Considering Kenneth's attachment to the device, I was beginning to wonder if he was the type to micromanage.

“Miss Jones.” I paused, thrown by the sound of Jackson's nickname coming from Kenneth's lips. “Please take a seat.”

“Thank you.” I slid into the chair opposite him.

“I'm glad to see you under more favorable circumstances,” he said, referring to our brief interaction at the Dallas hospital.

“As am I.” I focused on my mom's ring, forcing myself not to relive the harrowing days after Jackson was shot.

“Patrick tells me Jackson's recovery is progressing well.”

I smiled, thinking of how proud I was of Jackson, how grateful I was that he was okay. “It is. He's been very dedicated to his physical therapy.”

“I would expect nothing less from him. Jaguar has consistently been one of our top performing teams, last year notwithstanding. I'm sure you're eager to join them in the field.”

“I'm eager to assist any team that wants my help,” I answered diplomatically.

“Oh, I just assumed you'd want to join Jaguar.” He rubbed a hand over the faint stubble that lined his chin. “Since you're so close to the team.”

I schooled my face into a neutral expression. After the Zenith holiday party, it was only a matter of time before the entire office knew I was dating Liam. But my gut told me that wasn't what Kenneth was referring to. I didn’t believe Patrick would have told him about my relationship with the guys, despite their long friendship and business partnership. Patrick was loyal to his family above all else.

Had Kenneth noticed something in Dallas? I had been less guarded in my affections with the guys, giving them comfort and seeking reassurance. Consumed by emotion, I hadn’t thought to consider who might be watching us.

“They have been instrumental in my success.” I danced around the question. “But I'm not interested in joining their team or any team, for that matter. I believe a behind-the-scenes role is a better fit for my skills and interests.”

“Too much testosterone?” he joked, and I tried not to let my annoyance show.

“Something like that.”

“Aren't the Bennett brothers your roommates?”

It wasn't exactly a secret; still, I found the fact that he decided to mention it unnerving. I told myself I was probably being paranoid after a lifetime of secrecy. As he said, he wanted to get to know us. It wasn't his fault that my personal and professional lives were so inextricably linked.

“They are. So, you can understand why I may not want to work with them.”

“Fair enough. What about D.C.? If you ever tire of California, we're always looking for strategy specialists in the Northeast Regional Office. And, if you do as well in this course as I expect, I'd be happy to help make that happen.”

Flattered by his offer, even though I'd never consider it, I said, “I'll keep that in mind. I haven’t been to D.C., but I'd love to visit. Just maybe not during the winter.”

He chuckled. “I can't say I miss it right now. The temperature this morning is in the twenties, and they'll be lucky if they get above freezing before the day is through.”

“Is that your sales pitch?”

“Okay, so the snow can get old, but D.C. has so much more to offer—national monuments, world-class museums, incredible restaurants.”

“I suggest you lead with that next time,” I teased.

“Patrick told me I'd like you,” he said thoughtfully. “Before we wrap up, do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?”

Wanting to make a good impression, I asked, “What do you think is the key to success in any strategy role?”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his leg at the knee. “Expect the unexpected. You have to accept that no matter how much you research, analyze, try to think ahead, something will always happen that’s not part of your plan. How you choose to react will define your success.”

He stood, and I followed suit, rising to shake his extended hand. “Thank you for this opportunity. I look forward to learning from your expertise.”

“Thank you, Haley.”

It wasn't until I returned to my seat in the classroom that I breathed a sigh of relief. Kenneth's “interview” wasn't at all what I'd expected, and it felt more like an interrogation about my personal life. Still, he seemed nice enough, even if a bit nosy.

After my last class dismissed, I changed out of my uniform, trading it for jeans and a sweater. Despite traffic, I made it to Kara's apartment in record time. I jogged up the stairs, trying to avoid the cold, and knocked on the door seconds before my phone chimed with an incoming text message.

Liam: Are you eating dinner with Kara, or would you like chicken parmigiana?

Me: I'd love some chicken parmigiana. If you can wait, I'll eat you.

Me: *Eat WITH you. Dang auto-correct.

Liam: Dang Freudian slip.

I laughed to myself, surprised I wasn't more embarrassed, and I chalked it up as a consequence of dating five guys.

Liam: Text me when you're leaving, and I'll put it in the oven.

Me: Great. Thank you!

The door swung open, and Kara beckoned me inside. She'd already changed out of her work clothes and was dressed in black yoga pants and a loose sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder. My phone chimed again as I kicked off my flats, preventing me from giving her a proper greeting.

Liam: Can't wait to see you, gorgeous.

I smiled and sent Liam a kissy-face emoji before sliding the phone in my pocket. “Sorry, I swear I’m silencing my phone so we can have uninterrupted girl time.”

“No worries.” She waved a hand through the air. “How's lover boy?”

I followed her inside and sank into the couch, noticing a number of changes. In addition to a much larger, newer flat screen TV, there was a UCLA blanket draped over the back of the couch. An Xbox and several controllers were tucked in the media cabinet, leading me to believe that Logan had officially moved in now that they were no longer keeping their relationship a secret.

“Liam's good. Or, at least, that's who I assume you're referring to.”

“Because he's your 'boyfriend'?” she asked in a singsong voice, folding her legs beneath her on the couch.

I laughed. “Someone's in a good mood. And, yes, he's my boyfriend. No air quotes necessary.”

“This is the first time I've heard you refer to any of the guys as such.” She arched an eyebrow.

“Well, he is my boyfriend, but so are Jax, Chase, Theo, and Knox.” Even I was surprised I had admitted it aloud.

She fist-pumped the air. “I knew it!”

My jaw dropped. What was she talking about?

“Oh, come on, Haley. You can't honestly tell me you thought you'd be able to choose between them?”

“No, but I believed I would be forced to.”

“And now?”

“Now, I realize that's not the case.” I sucked in a deep breath, caressing the microsuede throw pillow. “Knox told me that they want to be with me, permanently.”

Her mouth twitched, and I could tell she was holding back a smile. “How do you feel about that?”

“Relieved, selfish, crazy, happy,” I said, skimming the surface of my conflicted emotions. Would I ever get used to it—dating five incredible men?

“I'm glad. You deserve to be happy, and it's clear they adore you.”

“All right,” I said, ready to shift the conversation away from me, “your turn. I know you have dirt to spill, and I’m not going to monopolize this conversation.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I can’t help it that we have so much to catch up on. We haven’t had a girls’ night in forever.”

“Not since before the holidays, at least. Now that I'm done chauffeuring Jackson to physical therapy twice a week, it’ll be easier to get together.”

“Haley, I get it,” she said with sincerity. “Does that mean he's done with rehab?”

I nodded, a huge smile on my face. For once, I could think of Jackson’s injury without cringing, knowing he had overcome it. “He had his last appointment and a follow-up with his doctor. He got a clean bill of health.”

“That's great. I'm sure you will all be glad to put it behind you.” She paused, her expression solemn. “Not that you could ever forget it, but hopefully you can move past it.”

“I hope so. I think I was more traumatized by the ordeal than Jackson,” I admitted.

“While that may be true, I suspect he was putting on a brave face. He's used to being the calm, levelheaded leader. He knows that's what everyone expects of him, and he probably wanted to be strong for the rest of you.”

I knew she was right, but that still hadn’t made it any easier. I wasn’t even there when it happened, and I’d had a hard time coping. I couldn’t imagine how Knox, who had watched his best friend get shot, processed the event.

“Thanks again for being so supportive these past few months.”

Her eyes pierced me, full of compassion and concern. “Have the nightmares gotten any better?”

“They aren't nearly as frequent. Lately, I've had crazy dreams where the guys and I are superheroes.”

“Like Batman and Robin?”

“More along the lines of The Avengers, but yeah.”

She laughed. “That would be a kickass group Halloween costume.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” I said dryly. “So, I'm dying to hear how Scott took the news of you and Logan, because your text message led me to believe it went well.”

“It went surprisingly well. I think it helped that Tyler was super supportive and happy for us.”

“What about Hunter?”

She shrugged. “Seemed cool enough about it.”

“So . . . no throwing chairs? No yelling?”

“I think Scott’s exact words were 'don't fuck the team over if you decide to stop fucking.’”

“Charming.”

“I thought it was rather tame. In all honesty, I think he was more pissed about us keeping it a secret from the team for so long than the fact that we're dating. But, clearly, it proved that we’re able to remain professional despite being a couple.”

“Does this mean you'll get to share a room on assignments?”

“Yes.” She grinned. “Although, I'm going to miss the sneaking around. It was kind of hot.”

“I can see that, at least at first. But after a while, it gets old.”

Her face softened. “You don't have to keep your boyfriends a secret forever.”

“Really? I already get death stares from some of the girls at Zenith for dating Liam. Can you imagine if they knew the truth?”

“Screw them. Their opinions don’t matter. Or shouldn’t. What does matter is how you feel about it.”

“I'm only just now getting comfortable with the idea of dating the five of them. I'm not ready to declare it to the world.”

“You don’t have to broadcast it, but there has to be a compromise. Sneaking around is obviously wearing on you.”

“It is.” My shoulders drooped. “But I'm not ready to do something about it yet. We’re still figuring out what it even means to be in a relationship of this type.”

“In that case,” Kara said, shooting me a devious smile, “I think we should use code names to refer to the Jaguar guys.”

I rolled my eyes, secretly grateful that she was trying to lighten my mood. “We are not using code names.”

“But I have the perfect one for Jackson.” She pouted.

“Fine. What did you come up with?”

She bounced in her seat. “Jackson can be PMS for panty-melting smile. Which actually works out well, since most people would assume we were talking about your period.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “That is a terrible code name.”

“Liam can be lover boy or sex god. Your pick,” she continued, as if she hadn't heard me.

“I think I liked you better before your relationship with Logan went public.” She threw a pillow at me, and I narrowly dodged it. “Maybe I should taunt you with some of the couple monikers Theo has been toying with for you and Logan, or should I say, Kalo.”

She leaned her head back and laughed, looking more carefree than I’d ever seen her. If I wasn’t so happy for her, I would have been jealous.

“I should’ve known. Was he surprised by the news that we’re dating?”

“Not particularly. Of course, I’d once told him I had a hunch about you two. That was before I knew you were dating, but it may have tipped him off.”

At the sound of a key turning in the lock, Kara looked over her shoulder as Logan walked through the door. He pushed back his hood and dropped a gym bag by the door before kicking off his shoes. He shuffled to stand behind Kara, and she leaned her head back to look up at him.

“Hey, baby.” He bent down to kiss her before straightening to look at me. “Hi, Haley.”

“What are you doing home so early?” Kara asked.

“It didn't take as long as I expected,” he answered cryptically, leading me to believe they were referring to a Zenith assignment. “Sorry to interrupt girl time.”

Logan promptly disappeared to shower, and I stood, shaking out my foot that had fallen asleep. “I should probably head out. Liam's making dinner, and I don't want to keep him waiting.”

“You don't have to rush out on Logan's account.”

“I know.” I looped my arm through hers as we made our way to the door. “We'll hang out again soon.”

“Promise?”

“Definitely.” I paused, wondering how I'd never considered this before. “Does Logan know?”

“About you and Team Jaguar?” She shook her head, and I let out the breath I'd been holding.

“Thanks, Kara. For everything.”

I pulled her into a hug, hoping she realized how much I appreciated her friendship. Between supporting my relationship with the guys and helping me sort through my anxiety after Jackson was shot, she had been there for me. Although it should have surprised me—how much I had come to rely on her, to trust her, considering the brief amount of time we’d known each other—it didn’t. Somehow, it just made sense.