Chapter 1 - The First Rule Broken
The ballroom at the Newport estate hummed with the sound of polite applause, clinking crystal, and polite conversations about things that didn't matter. But none of that mattered to me in the seconds after Meredith pulled away. Her breathing was uneven, her fingers still tangled lightly in the fabric of my lapel, and her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and undeniable realization.
I stood there in my rented tuxedo, feeling as though the floor beneath my polished shoes had suddenly turned to glass. Two years of stolen glances, late-night strategy sessions over lukewarm takeout, and careful professional boundaries had just vaporized in the span of five seconds.
""Jonah,"" she whispered again, her voice breathless.
""I heard you the first time, boss,"" I managed to say, though my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
Across the room, standing beside a massive arrangement of white hydrangeas and eucalyptus, Preston Hale was staring directly at us. His jaw was clenched, his expression a storm of wounded pride and utter disbelief. He had invited Meredith here tonight expecting her to arrive alone, looking vulnerable, perhaps hoping to see a flicker of lingering regret in her eyes. Instead, she had shown up with her senior copywriter—and a kiss that looked entirely too authentic to be dismissed as a party trick.
Lillian Brooks, Preston’s stunning new bride, touched his arm, asking him a question he didn't answer. He couldn't take his eyes off us. Good. Let him choke on it.
""We need to get out of here,"" Meredith muttered, her hand sliding down from my jacket to grab my wrist. Her fingers were ice-cold. ""Right now.""
""What about the reception? The toast? The social obligations you dragged me across state lines for?"" I asked, though I was already taking a step backward to shield her from the staring guests.
""Screw the social obligations,"" she hissed, a flash of her usual executive fire returning to her eyes. ""My ex just realized he’s completely irrelevant, and you just upended the entire agency organizational chart. Let's go.""
We didn't wait for the valet. We practically jogged down the crushed-stone driveway toward the rental sedan parked near the edge of the estate grounds, the crisp autumn air of Rhode Island hitting us like a splash of cold water.
Once we were inside the car and the doors locked, the silence settled heavy and thick between us. The dashboard lights cast a faint amber glow over Meredith’s sharp cheekbones. She leaned her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes.
""Well,"" I said quietly, gripping the steering wheel. ""That definitely violates rule number three.""
Meredith let out a sudden, sharp breath that turned into a genuine laugh. She covered her face with both hands. ""Rule three was entirely unrealistic, Jonah. You can't collaborate on high-stakes marketing campaigns with someone for twenty-four months and expect them not to kiss you when you're standing under crystal chandeliers looking like a movie star.""
""Is that a compliment?""
""That’s a confession,"" she said, dropping her hands and turning to look at me in the dim light. Her expression shifted, growing suddenly serious. ""And before you think this was just a rash emotional reaction to seeing Preston... it wasn't.""
I turned toward her, the humor draining out of the conversation. ""What do you mean?""
Meredith reached into her leather handbag, pulled out a folded manila folder, and dropped it onto my lap. ""I didn't just bring you to this wedding to make my ex jealous, Jonah. Preston’s new company—Hale Media Group—has been systematically stealing our proprietary client data and undercutting our bids for six months. Tonight was my only chance to get into his private corporate server room while he was distracted by the ceremony.""
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I stared at the folder, then back at her. ""You broke into his server room?""
""No,"" she said, a cool, dangerous smile touching her lips. ""You did while we were making out in the ballroom. The flash drive is in your breast pocket.""
