Starry-Eyed Love (Spark House)

I fumble my phone and it clatters to my desk. “I was just about to message you.”

Jackson stands in the middle of the office, his bowtie hanging loose around his neck, his tux jacket open, one hand tucked into his pocket. His gaze is hot as it moves over me. “Are your sisters still here?”

“They are. Somewhere. Maybe in the kitchen.” Possibly eating leftover dessert, as they like to do.

He crosses the room. “You were amazing tonight. I truly love watching you shine, London.”

“Thank you for making this possible.” I’m aware that on the grand scale of things, this is a small, intimate event and that most of his charity events make twice as much, or more.

“Based on the discussions I had with many of the guests tonight, I have a feeling Spark House is going to be very busy for the foreseeable future.”

“You’ve opened so many doors for us.”

“You opened all your own doors, I was just here to hold them for you.” He comes around my desk and stops when he’s right in front of me. “I’m sorry if I’ve been off since I arrived, but I needed to be able to remain professional until the event was over, and the only way I felt that was possible was to keep my distance.”

“Is that why you basically ghosted me since New York?”

He frowns. “My intention wasn’t to ghost you, London. After our time together in New York, I realized I needed to take a step back, and now that the event is over, I’m letting Mitchell and Trent take over where Spark House and Teamology are concerned. I don’t think my involvement will be necessary after the success of tonight.”

“Oh. I see.” I’m finding it very difficult to swallow past the lump in my throat. I knew this would happen eventually, and I’m honestly surprised that he’s been so involved in the first place. I’d hoped that it had less to do with the actual charity event and more to do with me. “I’m sure your time is better allocated elsewhere, and I sincerely appreciate all you’ve done for me. I mean for Spark House.”

“That isn’t what I wanted to tell you, London. That was just the preamble.”

“Oh.”

He gives me a small, gentle smile. The kind I’ve learned he adopts when he finds my reactions amusing for whatever reason. I’m not finding this particular conversation all that amusing right now. “Maybe I wasn’t as clear as I should have been in New York. I’m not stepping back because I don’t want to be involved, I’m doing it because I need to let someone less personally invested take over.”

“So you ghosted me the past few weeks because you’re too invested.”

“I can’t work with you anymore because I have feelings for you that are not related to business or in any way platonic. But now that this event is over, I’d like to officially ask you on a date.”

“Officially?”

“Well, according to Trent, we’ve already been dating for the past two months, give or take, and I’ve just been too much of an idiot to realize it.”

“How do you mean?” I tip my head.

“How much time have we spent together over the past two months?”

“Well.” I rub my fingers together. “A lot, but it’s been business-related.”

“The truth is, I don’t attend estate sales with my other business associates. And while I might have clients stay at the apartment in New York, I usually don’t fly them out for an overnight and clear it with their sisters first. You made me crêpes, London. Would you do that for any of your other business associates?”

“No, but—”

He gives me a wry grin. “Like it or not, we’ve been unofficially dating for months now. And I’d like to make it official.”

“Official how?” My stomach is a whirl of excited butterflies.

“Official in that I’ll take you on the date that we’ve both been trying to get each other to go on. I would like to treat you like the queen you are, and if all goes well, at the end of our date I’ll finally find out what your lips taste like.” We both take a step closer. “If you’re amenable to a date, that is.”

“That depends.”

He arches a brow. “Oh?”

“Is this the date that’s going to include a hot air balloon ride?”

“Hot air balloon ride?” he echoes.

“When you approached me and my sisters at the restaurant the first time, you mentioned a hot air balloon ride.”

“Ah. Yes. I did do that, didn’t I?” A slightly embarrassed grin curves the right side of his mouth. “I hadn’t factored that into my plan for tomorrow, but I’d be willing to see what I can do about that.”

“Actually.” I pick imaginary lint from the lapel of his jacket. “I have a small fear of heights.” I hold my finger and thumb two inches apart. “So maybe we could hold off on the hot air balloon ride, for say, a half century or so.”