The Heart Clause With The Billionaire

TANISHA. I tapped away at my keyboard, my fingers moving on autopilot as I finished the last lines of a quarterly report. My eyes scanned over the report, gave it one final glance, then sent. The email was sent off to the manager's inbox. I leaned back in my chair, blowing a soft breath out. As I sat, the usual midday chatter began to bubble around me as my colleagues got up, preparing to head out for the lunch break. “Let's go to that cafe a few blocks down," someone suggested across the room. "Yup, I need that caramel latte to get through the rest of the day," another added. Someone laughed and a handful of co-workers gathered their things and headed toward the elevators. A few of the newer employees lingered to walk past my cubicle. I could feel their eyes on me. One young woman, her ID badge bouncing from around her neck, tilted her head towards me and leaned in to whisper something to the man beside her. "What's wrong with her?" I heard her ask. "She's been here for years and barely talks," the guy said, a little too loudly. "A total freak and kinda depressing vibe, if you ask me." "Yeah, just stay away from her." Another chimed. The others nodded, talking about me as if I couldn't hear them. I didn't flinch. Their words ran off me like water on a rock. I'd heard it all before. And by now, nothing really hurt anymore. I didn’t care enough for it to. The office grew empty shortly afterward, quieter with every leaving step and disappearing voice. I remained at my desk, opened my lunch box, and unwrapped the sandwich I had prepared that morning, egg salad on white bread. Apple slices lay on the side and a tiny bottle of water. I ate slowly, the quiet enveloping me like a blanket. It hadn't always been this way. Once, my sister Karina would’ve shown up out of nowhere and dragged me out for lunch. We’d sit somewhere sunny and she’d talk about her day, her new nail color, some ridiculous thing her neighbor’s cat did, or her dream of opening a yoga studio by the beach. I’d mostly listen, and she’d fill in the silences like she always did. Or I would have called my parents, and they'd pick up on the first ring. My mom would tell me to eat well and to put on a jacket. My dad would get me laughing, even when I didn't want to. But it all came to an end two years ago. The accident took them all. Karina, my parents. All dead in one senseless moment. Because of a drunk driver. All except me. I still didn’t understand why I survived it. I blinked, the pain rising up in my chest. I swallowed harder, chewing faster, pushing the thoughts away. Shaking my head ever so slightly, I inserted my AirPods and turned the music loud. Something with a tempo and lyrics I didn’t really hear. Just to silence the thoughts in my head. Finally it was evening and I wiped down my desk, collected my things, and hoisted my bag over my shoulder. My life was a pattern, a routine that never varied. Work, eat, quiet, home. Do it again. So when I heard my name being called from down the hall, I slowed in my step. "Can you come to my office for a second?" Naya's voice floated out softly. I stopped, and turned and went toward her office. Naya was my supervisor, but she'd been more before the accident. A mentor. A friend. As I entered, I saw someone already seated across from her. A man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with tattoos peeking out beneath the sleeves of his black hoodie. He looked familiar. Then I knew who he was. Jude Lennox. Rising basketball star. Tabloid cover girl. The kind of client I generally avoided. "Sit down, please," Naya invited, indicating the chair next to Jude. I sat down, placing my bag on the floor and intertwining my fingers in my lap. Naya smiled tiredly at me. "I know you're just going to leave, but I need to ask you something. A favor, really." She glanced over at Jude and back at me. "You know Jude already. Reese had been covering his story, but unfortunately suffered a stroke last night. She's in the hospital currently." My brows crinkled a little in slight worry. "Oh…Is she okay?" "She's fine, but she's not going to work anytime for the next week," Naya said. "And there's a charity event tonight. Extremely high-profile. The press will be there. Jude is going to need to have someone with him, and…." She paused, looking at me kind of hopefully. I glanced over at Jude. He was sitting back in his chair, fiddling through his phone like he couldn't care less. "It’s been years since I've worked with a client, Naya, and it’d been just once," I replied guardedly. "I know, but it’d been a huge success," Naya said softly. "You’re very brilliant, Tanisha, and you're one of the best we have, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could do it." I twirled my fingers. "You could do it in my place." "No, I can't," she replied. "The exec team's going out tonight for a campaign pitch, and I'm going along with them. I'd be there if I could." I looked down. I wanted to refuse it. I hadn't worked a client’s PR manager since the accident. I hadn't gotten excited about PR again since then, all my passion just gone. Naya leaned over and touched her hand on mine. "I wouldn't ask if it weren't vital. And I wouldn't send you if I didn't feel confident that you'd be able to do it." Her hand was warm, her eyes pleading. She had stood with me when the world had broken open at my feet. She had let me grieve quietly, never pushing, just being there. It would be wrong to refuse her. And then Jude intervened, his voice stern and dry. "It's only a party, you know, not the end of the f*****g world." I turned my focus on him. His tone was cutting and flippant, but there was something else in his gaze, behind the front that caught my notice. Tortured star. Just typical. I dismissed him and brought my focus back to Naya. "All right," I said, softly. "I'll do it." Her face lightened in relief. "Thank you, Tanisha." I nodded once, and she handed me Jude’s file as we bid our goodbyes. As I took the train home, I read through it and cooked up a plan. I would fix the whole issue tonight, get it over with, and return to safety.