Come As You Are(48)

My jaw comes unhinged. “How did you know it was her?”

Her smile is soft and kind. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Sabrina. I’ve never really known any article to require five or six interviews. And when she came by the office the other day, there was a sort of glow in your eyes. I saw it again at the softball game. You’ve never looked at anyone like that.”

“Not Annie?”

Jennica shakes her head. “This seems like something that makes you happy here.” She taps my sternum.

I smile. “Yeah, it does. She does.”

I wipe away the smile. I have a job to do, and employees to look out for. I’ve studied our numbers. I know we’re doing well. Still, I’m the kind of guy who likes to check and double check. It’s what I did on all my math tests, and it served me well. “Does that mean I’m not totally messing up our company if I pursue things with her?”

Jennica leans against the wall, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “We’re stronger than that at Haven. We’ll be fine.”

And if that’s the case, that means I can reconsider the approach to this math problem.

My hypothesis has changed when it comes to Sabrina. At first, I’d been so focused on what I might lose at work if I got involved with her. Would our rollout falter? Would we lose ground? Would my edge fade? But at this point, my company is solid and the shark circling us appears to have retreated. Since the hypothesis has changed, the expected result should too. Perhaps falling for her and managing my business can go hand in hand. “You’re sure?”

She laughs. “Yes. And listen, I know you’ve tried not to get involved with people you work with because you love the company so much. I get that. You’ve wanted to keep everything separate, devote yourself to Haven, and not let anything distract you. But look what you’ve done,” she says, gesturing to the hallway, and presumably to the piece we just finished. “You built another amazing company, and there’s a part of you that still believes if you don’t give it one hundred percent, we’ll get lost or hurt. But Flynn, fifty percent of your focus is the equivalent of two hundred percent of anyone else’s.”

“Oh stop. You’re too good to me.”

“You’re too good to us. And if she’s the one for you, you have to take the chance with her. You’ve given so much of your heart and your soul to the businesses we’ve worked on together. I think it’s time you take care of yourself.” She squeezes my shoulder. “I want you to be happy.”

“And this is when I remind myself that whatever your bonus is, it’s not big enough.”

“Precisely. Just remember that when it’s holiday time.” She takes a deep breath and fixes me with a serious stare. “But what will happen to her and her story? Frankly, that’s a bigger concern at this point—what impact will it have on her?”

“You’re right. She has more at stake. I have more cushion.”

She squeezes my arm. “Be her cushion, then.”

That’s the next problem to solve—how to be her cushion. How to turn Sabrina’s risk into our reward.





22





Sabrina



It’s three in the morning. I’m bleary-eyed. I’ve drunk all my tea. I’ve consumed enough caffeine to power a small planet.

I’m pretty much done with the first draft of my article. This is a dream. This is what I’ve always wanted to write. Something deep and rich that tells a thrilling tale, with ups, downs, conflict, and hope.

As I lean back in the tiny chair at my tinier kitchen table, staring at the laptop screen, satisfaction flows through me. This is a good piece. This is a fair piece.

The next step is to show it to my brother. I don’t have enough distance to know if I’ve done the job. If I’ve been critical enough in my observations.

I email him.

Your mission, should you choose to accept, is to apply those finely tuned ethics to my piece. Let me know if I’ve been fair. Let me know if it’s patently obvious I like the guy, or if you can’t tell one iota that I have a massive crush on him.

He must be up late too, because his response is swift.

Mission accepted. I have a test tomorrow, so let me read it later in the day. Also, I knew you had a crush on him. And I’m glad you’re being so introspective and thoughtful about whether you can even do this piece.

I blink. Whether? No, I’m doing it. I’ve done it. It’s done. All I want to know is if I pulled it off, or if it needs more wordsmithing.

But I don’t need to get into those details yet. I send him a thank you.

It’s funny how feedback from my little brother is what I needed. He’s been my benchmark for how to behave for the last several years, and I needed his input after the kiss with Flynn.

My stomach drops with guilt.

But it’s more than a morsel of guilt. It’s snowballed into a too-tall boulder.

I don’t regret kissing Flynn.

How could I? When he kisses me, I feel it in my bones, it radiates to my soul. He kisses me like I’m cherished. Like I matter. Like I could matter for a long, long time.

My regret comes from the work.

From my fear that somehow my feelings for him could hurt the reputation of Up Next. Bob Galloway put his neck on the line for me, and I want to deliver. I don’t want to bring scandal or gossip to his publication.