CHAPTER 7

~ SIMON

The silence that followed my entrance was thick enough that I could hear the ancient air conditioner wheezing in the corner, fighting a losing battle against the August heat.

I kept my arm locked around Jamie's shoulders, feeling the tension wired through every inch of her. She was trembling—barely, just enough that I caught it. That tiny, almost invisible tremor that no one else in this room would clock.

Except me.

"Simon Hart," I repeated, letting my smile stretch wide and easy. "Great to finally meet you all. Jamie's told me so much about you that I feel like I already know everyone."

Eyes bounced between me and Jamie like a ping-pong match.

"Wait." The guy I assumed was the ex cut through the air like a blade. "You're her boss? Simon Hart? Of Hart & Co.?"

I turned toward the voice slowly, letting my smile edge into something just dangerous enough.

"Oliver, right?" My voice stayed easy, almost lazy. "The neurosurgeon. I've heard a lot about you too."

I watched the color drain from his face. The woman next to him—Vanessa, I'd already filed that away—grabbed his arm, but her eyes stayed fixed on me with this look I couldn't quite place. Curiosity, maybe. Or something sharper.

"Yeah, I'm her boss," I continued, taking a step forward without loosening my grip on Jamie. "And her boyfriend. For now, anyway. We're still in that phase where she's figuring out if she can stand me." I let out a low laugh, glancing down at Jamie with something that didn't take any effort to fake. "But I'm doing my best to convince her."

"Boyfriend?" Oliver repeated the word like it was a curse. "You're dating your boss?"

"I know, sounds scandalous when you put it like that." I shrugged. "But to be fair, I'd been crazy about Jamie for a long time."

Jamie's head snapped toward me so fast I almost laughed.

"Simon—"

I ignored the warning in her tone.

"Only problem was, she was engaged." I looked at Oliver. "And I've got a lot of faults, but chasing after a taken woman isn't one of them."

His jaw tightened.

"So you just... waited?"

"Pretty much." I pulled Jamie a little closer against my side. "Kept my mouth shut, minded my own business, respected her relationship."

I paused.

"Then I found out she was single."

A few of the women in the room were already smiling.

"And?" one of the aunts asked, clearly way too invested.

I grinned.

"And I was so broken up about it that I set off fireworks the next day."

A laugh ripped through the room.

Jamie squeezed her eyes shut for half a second.

"Oh my God."

"I'm kidding." I tilted my head. "They weren't real fireworks."

More laughter.

I looked back at Oliver.

"But I won't lie. Knowing I finally had a shot with her? Made my whole week."

This time, nobody laughed quite as much as I did.

Especially Oliver.

"Oh, Simon!" A wobbly old voice cut through the tension. "Come here, sweetheart! Let me get a look at you!"

Jamie's grandmother was settled in an armchair by the window, a plaid blanket draped over her knees, her face creased with age but her eyes sharp and bright. She reached out a hand toward me, and I crossed to her immediately, letting go of Jamie just long enough to take that fragile hand between both of mine.

"So you're the man finally making my granddaughter smile again," she said, and her voice carried the weight of someone who'd seen enough to know. "It's been years since I've seen that light in her eyes."

"Grandma," Jamie murmured, surprise threading through her voice. "You barely even know him."

"Oh, honey, I know enough." The old woman squeezed my hand. "And I know men. This one's good." She winked at me. "Even with that face that's definitely broken a few hearts."

I laughed—a real laugh, caught off guard. "You've got me figured out, Grandma."

"Oh, I'm not your grandma yet." She chuckled, a dry cough cutting through the sound. "But maybe someday. If you behave yourself."

"I'm trying my best," I said, and meant it. There was something about this tiny old woman that made me want to be better.

She squeezed my hand harder, her eyes glistening. "Take care of her, Simon. She deserves someone who really loves her."

"I will," I promised, and it came out more sincere than I'd expected.

That's when I heard movement to my left.

Vanessa stood up—and turned slowly sideways, like she was reaching for something in her bag. But I saw what she was doing. Saw the pronounced curve of her belly, the way her dress pulled tight across the swell.

My brain calculated fast. Seven months, minimum. Maybe eight.

My eyes found Jamie's, and I watched shock ripple across her face like a wave.

I leaned in, mouth close to her ear. "You didn't know?"

She shook her head, lips forming the words without sound. "No. Nobody told me."

Vanessa must have felt her staring, because she turned, a tight smile forming. "Jamie, I—"

"I need some water," Jamie cut in, her voice eerily controlled. "Sorry, just—give me a second."

She turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Instinctively, I moved to follow.

"Simon, sweetheart!" A gray-haired aunt materialized in front of me, blocking my path. "Tell us everything about yourself! Jamie never mentioned she was dating anyone!"

"We—" I started.

"How long have you two been together?" another aunt chimed in, appearing from nowhere with a wine glass in hand.

"Not long."

"How long is not long?"

"Long enough."

"Simon, honey, has Jamie met your family yet?"

I breathed through my nose.

Jesus Christ.

I ran a multinational company. I'd negotiated billion-dollar deals. I'd faced down entire boards of investors who wanted my head on a platter.

But apparently, three curious aunties from Westchester were going to be my undoing.