Meeting Jack

Sunlight crept through the curtains in thin gold spears. Naomi stirred against the pillows and blinked at the ceiling. For a few moments she didn’t move; she just let herself drift in the soft aftershock of the night before.

Her muscles still held the faint ache of pleasure, and her thoughts were a series of blurred flashes: Damon’s hands gripping her hips, the low sound of his voice in the dark, the way she’d melted against him. Even now, breathing in the scent of his skin on the sheets, her pulse fluttered.

The room smelled faintly of coffee. Damon always woke first. Naomi rolled onto her side and watched him across the room. He was at the window, his tall frame outlined by sunlight, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone.

He wore a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair still damp from the shower. He looked every inch the CEO again and for some reason, it excited her.

He’d been like this ever since she met him: half public man, half private man. She had thought she knew which one she’d married. Lately she wasn’t so sure.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, slicing through the quiet. Naomi reached for it, thumb hovering over the screen.

Uncle Jack.

Her eyes flickered open in excitement! She had expected him to call and inform her when he intended to meet up.

She swiped to answer. “Hello?”

On the other side of the bed Damon’s head snapped around. His body went still, as if a wire had tightened inside him.

“Naomi?” Jack’s voice was warm, genial as always, with that faint edge she had learned to recognise as worry. “My girl! Sorry to call so early. Are you free this afternoon? Three o’clock? We should talk. Some things about the family trust.”

Naomi blinked. “Three o’clock works. Where?”

“I’ll text you the address. It’s important. Don’t be late.” The line clicked dead before she could ask another question.

She lowered the phone slowly. Damon was still watching her, his jaw rigid.

“What?” she asked softly.

He turned his gaze away. “Nothing.”

Naomi sat up, sheet clutched around her. “That’s not a ‘nothing’ look.”

Damon ran a hand over his mouth, then set his phone on the dresser. “Jack called you?”

“Yes. Three this afternoon.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“I haven’t.” His tone was flat, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. The same man who had stared down hostile board members now looked like a boy caught in a lie. “It’s just… I didn’t expect him to reach out so soon.”

“Soon? Damon, what’s going on?”

He opened his mouth, closed it. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I’ll tell you,” he said finally, “just… not yet.”

Naomi’s stomach tightened. “Not yet? Damon, you’re scaring me.”

He came back to the bed and sat beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight. “I don’t want to scare you. I need to be sure about something before I tell you anything.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Promise me you’ll meet him but you won’t go anywhere alone with him. Not until I’ve spoken to you.”

Naomi searched his face. “Damon…”

“Please.”

She exhaled slowly. “Fine. But you’re telling me tonight.”

“Tonight,” he agreed, though his eyes flickered away.

She studied him, trying to see past the CEO mask. He had been strange since last week, a look that crossed his face whenever Jack’s name came up.

“Do you know something about him?” she asked quietly.

Damon stood and moved to the window again. “I know enough to be careful,” he said without looking at her. “And so should you.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

Silence.

“I know that Uncle Jack can be quite vicious when it comes to business but…”

Damon nodded. “I know. Just keep me posted. Please.”

Naomi wrapped the sheet tighter around herself. Outside, the city pulsed with its usual morning noise: car horns, sirens, the faint smell of coffee and exhaust through the open window. Normally mornings with Damon felt like a secret world carved out from all that chaos. Today it felt like a trap.

She rose and padded to the bathroom. In the mirror her reflection stared back at her: hair mussed, lips still swollen from his kisses. She splashed water on her face, trying to cool the creeping unease.

When she came out Damon had put on a navy suit, crisp white shirt, cuff links flashing at his wrists. He looked like the Damon she’d met at a board meeting, untouchable, controlled. Only his eyes betrayed him, flicking toward her and away again.

“I have a meeting at ten,” he said. “I’ll send a driver for you later if you want.”

“I can drive myself.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” The edge in his voice was sharper than he intended, and he softened it with a sigh. “Please.”

She stared at him, then nodded. “Fine.”

He stepped closer, adjusting her collar, a gesture so intimate it startled her. “Naomi, whatever Jack tells you, don’t take it at face value.”

“What is he going to tell me?”

“I don’t know.” Damon’s thumb brushed her jaw. “That’s what scares me.”

A shiver ran through her. “You’re making me feel like I’m walking into an ambush.”

“You might be.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stepped back, the mask sliding back into place. “Call me after.”

She watched him leave the bedroom, the click of the door sounding right after.

For a long time she just stood there, staring at the closed door, phone in hand. The glow of the morning felt thin, like paper about to tear.

He was hiding something but he had no idea what it was..

***

By noon Naomi sat at her desk, trying to focus on a stack of reports. The numbers blurred on the page.

Her colleagues drifted past the glass walls of her office, whispering. She could feel their eyes on her. They had all seen her come in late, hair still damp, the faint glow of something they didn’t understand clinging to her.

Tita, especially. Tita with her perfect eyeliner and cold smile.

Naomi typed a line, deleted it, typed again. She kept thinking of Damon’s face when Jack’s name appeared on her phone. She kept thinking of the way he’d said, You might be walking into an ambush.

At 2:15 she finally pushed back from her desk. Didi poked her head in. “Everything okay, ma’am?”

“Fine.” Naomi smiled tightly. “Just an appointment.”

She gathered her bag, her phone, and her coat. Outside her office Tita was at the copier. Their eyes met. Tita’s expression was unreadable but Naomi felt the weight of it on her face.

Naomi walked past her without a word.

Downstairs, the lobby smelled of marble polish and coffee. The driver Damon had sent was waiting at the curb with a black car. Naomi hesitated before climbing in.

From the mezzanine level, Tita watched through the glass. She saw Naomi step into the car, saw the darkened windows swallow her. Tita’s mouth curved into a thin line. She had always known Naomi was hiding something. Now she had proof or at least a lead.

Inside the car Naomi sat back against the leather seat, phone in her lap. She should call Damon. She didn’t. She stared out the window at the city sliding past, each block carrying her closer to whatever Jack wanted.

Her phone buzzed again. A text from Dam0n.

Damon: Remember what I said. Don’t go anywhere alone with him.

She typed back

Naomi: I won’t. But you’re telling me everything tonight.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Then nothing.

Naomi closed her eyes. “What are you hiding from me?” she whispered.