“I agree. She met Nate long before he had a penny to his name. It’s amazing what they were able to accomplish together. I was shocked when she said they lost their brother last year to violence. How terrible for their parents that they’ve buried two children.”
She nods. “Heartbreaking for sure. But I was glad to hear her say they’ve just hit a bump in the road, and the work will continue.”
“Is she going to take over the foundation?” I ask.
“I don’t think so. She’s the main caregiver for her parents, and she wants to be a strong influence on Cecelia’s kids.”
After we chat a little more Caroline excuses herself, and Jackson reappears by my side. The crowds slowly dissipate, and people return to the City. It was a sad event, but also full of joy—definitely all Cecelia Lancaster.
As we drive back over the Golden Gate Bridge and head into town, I watch the sailboats tack and cross one another while the barges line up to enter port below.
“Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?” Jackson asks.
I can feel heat emanating from him across the backseat. I want to. I want to learn more about Jackson. What drives him? Why does he push himself so hard? Where did he grow up? What’s his favorite color? What does he like to do when he isn’t working?
“Thanks, but I should get home. We have an early morning tomorrow.”
He nods. “You’re right.”
The drive back to my apartment seems endless after that. The crackle in the air is palpable, but I’m exhausted from the flood of emotions today. Still, it’s taking all my willpower not to jump my boss. I can’t explain why I feel like this, but I think it must be my psyche searching for comfort after such a crappy day.
We arrive at my apartment. “Thanks for the ride.” I open the door and begin to exit, but Jackson gets out behind me.
“Where are you going? Isn’t someone from Jim’s team always walking you to your apartment?”
“Yes, but it’s not necessary.”
“It is necessary.” He steps back and opens his arms. “Lead the way.”
It’s not worth the argument, so I trot up the stairs.
He follows me up, and when we reach the landing below my apartment, my front door looks off—as if it’s cracked open. I stop and study it. That’s strange. Could Stacy or Angela have returned home early?
Jackson follows my gaze. “Did you leave your door open when you left?”
Brian stood with me as I locked the door this morning. “No, but maybe one of my roommates came home early.”
Everything in Jackson’s body tenses, and he stomps up the last few steps. He pushes the door open and blocks my view.
I scurry up after him, and despite his broad shoulders, I can see the mayhem in my apartment. My hand goes to my mouth. Everything has been ransacked, and I catch a glimpse of blue spray paint on the walls.
“Who… Who…would do this?” I begin to sob.
I try to pass him and get a better look. There’s so much to clean up. What am I going to tell my roommates?
“Come on. Don’t touch anything,” he says. “Let’s go downstairs and call the police.”
We return to the waiting car, and Jackson gets on the phone. “Jim, there’s been a break-in at Corrine’s. Call Detective Lenning and please meet them at her apartment. Then when you’re ready, we’ll be at my apartment. I’m taking Corrine there.”
I’m numb. They were in my apartment. They touched our things. I feel absolutely violated.
Jackson takes me in his arms and holds me tight as the car zips up the hill to his apartment. As we drive, he jumps from call to call, and they’re all concerning me and my apartment. I try to listen, but I can’t follow what he says.
When we arrive, I stagger to the elevator and follow Jackson into his penthouse apartment. He sits me down on the couch and returns with a small glass of amber liquid.
“Here, drink this. It shouldn’t do anything more than calm your nerves. Jim is on his way over. The police are headed to your apartment.”
I nod. “Who could’ve done this?”
“When you left your apartment this morning, Brian escorted you down, and he saw you lock up.”
I’m unclear if he’s asking for confirmation or stating fact. “Were my roommates home? Stacy is supposed to be in Mexico with her boyfriend, Sean. And Angela has been at a trade show in Orlando. Were they there? Are they okay?”
Jackson shakes his head. “No one was in the apartment. But all the bedrooms and the kitchen look the same as the main room. When are they due to return from their trips?”
“Both on Sunday night.” I cover my face, but I’m all cried out from the afternoon.
“I think everyone will need new beds, and your couch is destroyed. Whoever came in was very angry.”
“Why me?” I lament.
“I have a guest room, and you’ll stay here,” Jackson informs me.
My head whips up. “I can’t stay with you! You’re my boss.”
“Why not?”
Is he off his rocker? There are so many reasons staying with him is a bad idea.
He cocks his head to the side and in a low voice asks again, “Why not?”
“We spent all day together,” I respond. I don’t add that I’m also thinking he’s a god, and I have dirty dreams about him.
A glorious grin crosses his face, and my heart melts. “You’ll have your own room with an en suite bath.”
I’m not about to tell him I think he’s sex on a stick. And since when do I think that anyway? I have lost my mind.
“Corrine, where do your parents live? Texas, right?”
I nod.
“Hotel rooms in the city start
